Mutant Graveyard
by MillieKittan
Summary: Its 2002 and Rapture is falling apart. When Max is sent there as a unwanted experiment, will she able to survive in a city occupied by psychotic splicers? Who or what will she find beneath the ocean's surface? Lighthearted but may be gory, M for safety.
1. The Submarine

**Some details on this one that needs clarifying, or the story doesn't really work.:**

**- This is based in the future of Bioshock but a little early for Maximum Ride. For the purposes of this story, Max was made in 1988 and is 14 years old at the time this is written, making it 2002. In terms of Bioshock, it's in its future and is not relating to any of the plotlines except for the characters mentioned (splicers, Big Daddy, Little sisters are probably all that's going to be mentioned)**

**- There will be a few Ocs to make a plotline.**

**- The flock have never met each other.**

**I'm ...not sure how well this one is going to turn out, since its a bit of a random stab in the dark when it comes to crossovers, but my brain apparently wants to write it, so I'll give it a shot. Please do review if you read, to let me know if its worth continuing or not. I do like being able to respond to feedback =P**

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Chapter 1**

Inside a lonely one person submarine deep beneath the ocean's surface, a young girl was still in the depths of a deep, anaesthesia induced sleep. She had been laid carefully in the back of the submarine, in the small space between the only chair and the back hatch, curled up in a ball.

The one person shuttle itself was on a pre set course, no other pilots controlling the ship. All of the controls on the dashboard, including the wheel, where locked in position or non-operational in case their passenger awoke before her destination was reached. They didn't want her getting back to the surface. She was useless, a failure.

Where better to send her than another failure.

The young girl, who looked about the age of a teenager, was anything but ordinary. Sprawled in the back of the sub and knocked out cold, the reason for such a statement would be incredibly obvious to anyone who could glance at her. Just poking out from slits in the back of her shirt were the tips of two tawny brown wings, tinted green in the sub light.

On top of that she had any other features not usually found in humans. Her bones were light and hollow, allowing her to use her magnificent wings, almost thirteen feet in span, to be able to fly. She could take more damage than the average human before getting tired, and her adrenaline levels were usually near the roof.

She was pretty strong too. Not a jar in the world she couldn't open.

Screwing her eyes up tight, the teen known as Max groggily, and grudgingly, opened her eyes against the medicinal haze still clouding her head. Her usual instinct would have been to shoot up and look around her, but even pulling herself into a sitting position as slow as possible was making her head spin.

Still squinting, a hand on her pounding head, Max looked about her slightly bewildered. Though she could see she wasn't in Itex anymore, that was about all her brain was allowing her to contemplate. The submarine panels, the water outside, even the fish swimming around the glass front of the pod was not registering as she tried to massage her headache away.

When the anaesthesia cloud wore away a few minutes later, that's when she began to panic.

Deftly, and only just avoiding whacking her head on the ceiling, Max jumped into the driver seat and started pulling levers, pushing buttons and trying to move the steering wheel. Considering she'd never been anywhere near a device like this before, that was all that came to mind to try. When nothing worked, she sat back to wrack her brains for an idea, and that's when her eyes caught something outside.

Leaning right over the control, Max pressed both her palms to the glass cover and got pretty close to pressing her face to the glass as well. Just in front of her, barely a few minutes ride away, was a city underwater. Neon lights shone brightly through the gloomy water, shadowed by sharks and fish as they explored the unusual habitat.

"What the..?" Was all she managed to say as she watched a whale swim between two buildings, its tail barely missing hitting one of the neon signs. A school of fish sailed past her windscreen as the pod navigated itself through the mass of waterways between massive structures. All Max could do was sit back and watch the scenery, hoping to God the sub wasn't going to just drop to the bottom of the ocean and let her drown.

Being decommissioned was nothing like the rumours.

The reason for her genetic modifications are due to her childhood, where she was created and born in the Itexicon facilities of the USA. Here they conduct genetic experiments to try and create viable human animal hybrids, and most of their experiments went horribly wrong.

With a few exceptions. Max was one of them.

She spent the first fourteen years of her life cooped up in a dog crate, her growth and metal capacity exceeding her years to that of a young adult by the end of her lab life. While she grew up, her carer told her of other recombinants that had been successful like her.

He told her of five others, that they had given themselves names too and were alive and healthy. Though he told her of them and their growth, she only ever met one of them, and that was for barely a second.

He was tall for his age, an easy five and a half feet when she met him at nine or ten. His hair was so dark brown it was almost black, draping across his eyes from the weight of being a little overlong. His eyes were brown and hard, she noted, when he shot her a look as the doors closed on him.

But she saw them: He had midnight black wings poking from his test subject pyjamas.

Then their budgets were cut, and Max's carer reported that all of the successful splices were going to have to be decommissioned to make way for new ones. Every other week he'd come in with a sad expression on his face reporting yet another of her fellow bird children had been decommissioned. Max had no idea what the word meant other than she wouldn't live at the Itex facility anymore, but it scared her.

It sounded like death.

Finally, two years after the first bird child was reported decommissioned, her carer didn't come to see her for a few days. She was starving hungry and parched by the time an unfamiliar scientist came in and placed a plate of food and a glass of juice in front of her.

Normally Max wouldn't accept food from anyone except her carer, but her stomach overruled her head and she tucked into the meal like it would be her last, gulping down the juice thirstily, wishing there was more than just the one.

She was almost right. It was her last meal on dry land.

_Then I woke up here_, she thought as the sub meandered its way deeper into the city, guided by some mechanism Max would probably never understand. Sighing softly she leant back in her chair, resting her feet on the useless dashboard and watching the water go by.

Whatever happened, she was stuck here. Might as well chill.


	2. First Contact

**First Contact  
**

It felt like she was weaving through the maze of buildings for days and days, but the on board clock, whether it was accurate to the real time or not, said she had only been doing so for about fifteen minutes. Bored of the scenery, Max had closed her eyes and was effectively blocking out the tiny submarine by imagining a field and humming softly to herself.

That was when the radio began buzzing, and Max nearly fell out of her chair.

After her heartbeat had stopped banging in her ears, she took her feet from the control panel and neat forwards to pick up the radio receiver. Examining it, she had no idea how to work it at all. It was a small, hand held device with a clip to attach it a belt or your pants, though it looked neglected and rusty. There was a large knob on the front of it which, when she turned it, seemed to change the amount of static coming through the speakers. Tying to phase out the high pitched whining noise now emitting from the it, Max played with the knob on the front, trying to get it to stop squeaking at her, but then she got a surprise.

"Hello?" It wasn't just broken - someone was trying to get in contact with her. She frowned and began to turn the knob very slowly, click by click, until there was just a background hum rather than a mind bending squeak. But then, she couldn't hear any voices coming through it.

Did she imagine it?

The device buzzed with a little surge of energy, and the speakers crackled into life again. "Hello?" A young, male voice repeated through the slight static. "Can you hear me? If you're alive please respond."

The device crackled and went silent once more, and Max wasn't quite sure what to do with it to reply. She searched the sides and back of little machine for a switch to flick or a button to press, but there didn't seem to be anything except the knob on the front. She didn't dare touch it in case it started buzzing at her again, and that's when she noticed the little button on the side. It wasn't raised higher than the rest of the device's shell, but it was definitely segmented from the rest of the case.

She pressed it down, and her speakers let out a small crackle as they came back to life. "Yes," she responded, her sarcastic brain seeming to forget she was in a completely different situation to normal. "I'm alive. Is that important?"

She let go of the button after a few seconds delay, having forgotten she was holding it down, and the speakers crackled in protest as the electrical connection was broken. Barely another second later they crackled into life again, and she smiled a little at the response.

"Yes, and good, you have an attitude. Bring that too."

Max sat back and smiled a little as the speaker crackled and died again, once again looking out into the ocean. She seemed to be heading down some kind of docking bay, with advertisements that looked like they should light up but remained dead and dark.

_Rapture,_ she thought as it floated below another unlit sign proclaiming the name of the city. She pressed the button on the radio and waited for the static to clear. "What is this place?" she asked as the docking bay came closer and closer. "Like a holiday resort?"

She realised it would be too good to be true if Itex sent their unwanted experiments to a holiday resort under the sea for the rest of their lives, and this was confirmed by the long delay as her friend on the other end of the radio tried to think of an explanation. Finally, the speakers crackled into life, and Max felt a shot of adrenaline shoot through her system as the sub did a slow three sixty to connect with the docking bay in front of it.

"It's your worst nightmare."

The sub clanked loudly as it conneted with the bay, and the lights in flickered as electricity was bypassed to opening the doors. Max crept out of her chair, radio still in hand as she listened to the old sub shudder and groan at the idea of opening the hatch. She pressed the button and held the speaker to her mouth, eyes not leaving the sub door.

"Thanks," she whispered into it. "That makes me feel _so _much better"

"Anytime," came his reply as the submarine gave one almighty shudder and the lights went out completely. Max stood there in the darkness for a few seconds, adrenaline filling her system as her brain panicked about being locked inside a sub.

Finally, the joints on the heavy door whined as they pulled the heavy door open, and an orange hue began to sweep over the floor. Without really thinking about it Max didn't wait for it to open fully, but instead ducked under the door when it was just half way up.

Suddenly, she wanted to be locked in the sub again.

Now she was encased in it, the orange lights seemed much dimmer, leaving a lot of the pathway in semi darkness. There were puddles of water in a variety of sizes all over the floor, slowly being made bigger by dripping from the pipes above them.

The worst part of it, however, was the smell. It was a mix of faeces and damp, with a hint of death and blood mingling with the two. If she hadn't lived in a cage most of her life and been subjected to all of those smells in varying quantities, she might have vomited right there.

Instead, she retched and leant against a grimy wall.

"Welcome to Rapture," the male voice interrupted her mini breakdown, pulling her back to reality and the smells that came along with it. Max took another look around as he continued. "This used to be a pretty cool place, apparently. Filled with inventors and the best minds in the world and stuff, but it fell apart."

"I can see that," Max commented as she forced herself to stop collapsing against the wall. She couldn't let just the sight of this place beat her - she doubted the sights and smells were what this guy was taking about when he called it her 'worst nightmare'.

Radio still in hand, she stepped away from the docking bay and out into the corridor connecting it to the main building. It was like walking through an aquarium, here they let the marine life in the tunnel swim over you so you can marvel at them. The glass was dirty and uncared for, but the views through it regardless were spectacular. Max even stopped for a minute to watch a shark swim over her, his tail propelling him powerfully through the water.

"If you haven't already, attach the radio to your belt and only reply to me when you have to," the voice prompted as she neared the door that separated the docking bay from the rest of the complex. "You're going to need both hands, and a weapon, to get to me."

Looking about her, Max failed to see any weapons except for a small metal pole that looked like it used to the leg of a folding chair. Reaching down, she picked it up, disappointed it wasn't as heavy as she'd hoped it would be, before pressing the button on the radio again.

"And why do I have to find you?" she queried before clipping the radio to her pant, taking a few practice swings with the metal pole. She was pretty sure she could inflict a reasonable amount of damage with it, considering her genetic engineering gave her more strength than the average 14 year old.

"Because," the voice added in a tone that sent a shiver down Max's spine. "No matter how long I guide you, if you stay on your own you _will _die."

She rolled her eyes and pressed a finger to the button, waiting for the static to clear before asking: "You don't have much faith in me do you, Mr. Voice? I'm a lot stronger than I look, trust me."

The radio fizzled back into life as she turned the cog on the door and hauled it open, steeling herself for what she might see on the other side. "I have more faith in you than the others I've tried to guide, mystery girl. And the name's Fang."

Max smiled, and pushed the button down as she studied the room ahead of her, seemingly devoid of anything except the puddles of water again. "Fang, that's an odd name," she commented, not taking her finger off the button as she stepped through the heavy door, not bothing to close it behind her as she raised the metal pole and did a three-sisty scan.

"The name's Max. Maximum Ride. And I'm like no other girl you've ever seen."


	3. Zombie Splicer

**Zombie Splicer**

Looking about her, Max took a few tentative steps into the room in front of her. It was basically empty, a large expanse of room with an abandoned reception desk opposite, a carpet that looked like it used to be plush and expensive leading from the pod entrance all the way up to the desk itself. Now its was dirty and torn in numerous places, its once soft fibres matted together with dirt and, she noted with a cringe, blood.

"You should be in the southern submarine docking bay, which means you've probably just walked into a reception area." Fang stated over the radio, his voice crackling in the static. "If there's any desks, draws or lockboxes, search them before you move on, you'll probably need the stuff inside them."

_Right,_ Max thought to herself as she stepped towards the reception desk, the grimy rug squashing and sinking under her feet, adding wafts of stale blood to the scent of the place. She didn't need to be told to be alert, her ears fine tuned to any noises, considering it had been eerily quiet since the submarine had stopped complaining. She got to the desk without a hitch, and lowered her weapon as she peeked over it.

What remained of an office chair, basically the wheel still attached to the plastic holder for the metal part, was on its side and slightly cindered. Papers were scattered all over the desk space, some faded to a darker tea stained colour from age others looking almost bran new.

Then she noticed a packet of chips.

Max vaulted the desk, leaving the metal bar on the table top and grabbing the packet of chips as soon as she landed. Just seeing the packet had reminded her how hungry she almost permanently was, and she ripped the packet open and stuffed a handful into her mouth, savouring the saltiness, even if they were a bit soft.

Once the chips ran out, she actually got back to the job at and: Searching for supplies. Crouching down, she checked all over the floor but found nothing but an empty hypodermic needle, which she didn't bother to pick up, and a prep bar she'd pocketed for later. The floor being so disappointing she immediately went to riffling through the draws and found a first aid kit and another prep bar, which was also pocketed.

"Once you're done, head out through the door on the left and follow the corridor right down to the end." Fang interrupted as she was pushing the last drawer shut again. She nodded more to herself than him, since he couldn't see her, and reached up for her metal bar.

It wasn't there.

_Shit_, she felt about a little more, and her brain began to panic. Without thinking it might be a bad idea to expose herself, she stood straight up and leaned over the counter, hoping it had fallen to the floor by accident, but it hadn't.

She pressed a finger to the radio. "My weapon's gone," she whispered, running her eyes over the room, zooming in with her raptor vision on every shadow before slipping back behind the counter as protection. As soon as she let go of the transmit button, the radio crackled back into life.

"You didn't put it down, did you?"

She wasn't sure if he was being patronising, like she should have known that would be a stupid idea, or if he actually concerned. She pressed a finger to the button again. "How are you supposed to search draws while holding a big-arse metal pole?"

"With difficulty," Fang replied, all seriousness not lost in his tone.

"Fantastic," Max mumbled to herself as she stood back up straight, turning on the spot to vault back over the desk. "Just bloody brillia-" She stopped dead, one food on the counter ready to vault and her mouth still open mid-word. In front of her was one of the most hideous things she'd ever seen, possibly even more hideous than Erasers.

It looked vaguely like a human being, but at the same time she wondered if you really could call this creature a human. Is nose was at the complete wrong angle, like someone had broken it and it and healed that way. It was obviously causing the creature problems because it was wheezing rather than breathing as it stared at her with yellow-green eyes, his chest heaving to get oxygen into his body.

His eyes themselves were bulging and unnatural looking, the skin around them shrunken away from the sockets and taunt from there to cheekbone, which protruded much more than they should, making his entire face look out of proportion. Is lower jaw was almost non existent, a tiny piece of bone wrapped in yellowed, dead looking skin, and is half open mouth had just a couple of teeth along the top jaw.

It was a mutant, and it was holding her pole.

With very slow movement, Max reached down and pressed the transmit button on her radio, flinching when the monster in front of her growled at the static. "Fang," she whispered, pulling the mutant's attention back to her face. "Some monster is standing right in front of me, with my metal bar…"

She planned to say more and held onto the button for a few seconds, but her mind went blank as the creature in front of her studied her intently with its creepy gaze. It gave another growl when she let go of the button and her radio buzzed into life.

"That would be a splicer," Fang whispered back over the radio, and the splicer's head swung back to the device on her belt. "It used to be a human, now its…something else."

"No kidding," Max muttered to herself, then clamped her mouth shut, but the splicer was too engrossed in the fizzing static of the device to notice she'd spoken. Max still didn't attempt to move yet, hoping Fang would offer some more advice.

"If it hasn't attacked you already, it's a zombie splicer." Fang continued in a whisper over the intercom, and Max frowned slightly at the word 'zombie'. "It's interested more than dangerous, but you need to kill it or you could have a temperamental psychopath following you about."

_Great…doesn't look that tough,_ Max tough to herself as she quickly calculated the mutant's size, and how high she'd have to lift her leg to roundhouse kick it in the face. It was still completely enthralled in the hissing of the radio, not paying attention to being eyed up for a killing. It grunted and reached for the device.

Then Max's foot caught it right in the jaw, and it stumbled with a startled cry.

She used the seconds it was recovering to leap back over the counter and scan the area for another weapon, but all there was besides the rug was random litter and empty boxes littering the walls. Turning her attention back to the splicer, she recalculated how right she had been to launch a kick at its jaw.

The creature's jaw must have been a weak spot, because it was no hanging at an awkward angle, blood dripping from the front of it. The splicer seemed to be unaware of this, however, because his mad looking eyes were fixed firmly on Max's own.

It raised the metal pole swiftly and stuck itself on the head, eliciting the best roar its jaw would allow. Max raised an eyebrow, her mouth slightly open in surprise as it struck itself on the head again and again, its roar getting louder and louder with every strike.

She stood with her arms by her sides, wondering what the ell it was doing, until it roared so loudly she was sure she felt the floor vibrate. It jolted her back to reality, and instantly she was taking quick steps backwards, trying to put some distance between her and the barely human thing holding her gaze, blood coloured saliva dripping from its broken jaw.

It dropped the pole, and then it ran. And so did she.

Turning tail on the spot she sprinted as fast as she could for the door on the left of the reception, but her brain was confirming there was no way she'd be able to wrench the door open, get through and shut it again before the splicer was upon her. She skidded to a halt just in front of it, turning on the ballos of her feet and taking up a fighting stance.

"You want me?" She growled, feeling the familiar burst of adrenaline flood her senses, her energy filled muscles primed for a fight. The splicer was just seconds from her, the pole discarded and forgotten along the way as he charged at her, his primal instincts driving his flight. Max pushed her left foot backwards, setting her weight on the one in front, counting the seconds.

She didn't expect it to make a leap for her, but her muscles were working faster than her brain. She dropped and rolled beneath its mass as it smashed head first into the metal door, its wonky nose avoiding being broken because of its already odd angle. Max scrambled to her feet and sped the distance between the door and the reception desk, grabbing the pole again before turning on the spot.

The zombie obviously had no pain sensors, since it got straight up and was charging again, its few teeth bared and its rotten ands outstretched as it tried to catch its prey. Max swung the pole out into a ready position, waiting for the right millisecond, counting the moments.

It leapt at her like a tiger, and this time, she was ready for it.

She jabbed the pole straight up into the mouth of the splicer, knocking his last remaining tooth out as she impaled the roof of his mouth. It went through the thin bone plate protecting his brain and suddenly the monster went limp, his weight pulling the pole from Max's hand as he dropped like a stone to the floor, the thump muffled by the soggy carpet. The pole hit the carpet at the same time as his body, the angle breaking the man's neck before making him fall to the side.

Max stood dead still, her heartbeat a little fast as she regained her composure, but she couldn't take her eyes off the dead creature before her. The creature that used to be a human being, like her. Blood was making a stream down the pole, eventually reaching and pooling on the carpet, merging with the rest of the grime and dirt. When she finally pulled herself together, she reached down with a bloodied hand and pressed the transmit button.

"I'm alive, in case your wondering." She stated before letting go of the button, reaching down to grab the end of her metal pole. The wireless crackled back into life as she leant down and grabbed a old of the end of the pole, muttering curses under breath as she pulled his head to a different angle and positioned a foot on his collarbone.

"That's some more faith to your name, Max." Fang's voice sounded through the speakers, a little more optimistic than before. She gave the pole a hard pull and dislodged it, along with a flood of blood, from the splicer's brain. "But you've still got a way to go before you get to me."

She strode towards the now splicer blood decorated door, pole at her side in one hand and the other pressing the button on her transmitter. "I hope you're not getting me there just so I can protect you." She asked in all seriousness before letting go of the button to turn the large wheel on the door.

"Not a chance," he replied, and Max smiled slightly to herself as she pulled the heavy door open. "I'm like no other boy you've ever seen, too."


	4. Primitive Splicers

**Primitive Splicers  
**

Turns out the single zombie splicer was the easy part. Max wondered if this was going to be a feeling she'd experience often, wishing she could go back to the room before and stay there rather than keep advancing. She stepped trough the doorway into a green lit room. It smelled pretty much like the other one, and didn't look much better, but that's not what made her want to turn around.

The three splicers staring at her did that on their own.

"Ok then," she stated as calmly and quietly as she could, eyes darting between each one as they licked their lips and took a few steps towards her. All three were holding a weapon of some kind: A piece of broken furniture, a strip of metal and a baseball bat seemed to be their weapons of choice.

They walked like they were bow legged, and slightly sideways like a crab, their skin grey and taunt to their faces, which looked like it was on its way to being a zombie splicer face: The cheekbones protruded too far and their lower jaws looked smaller than they should be.

Max took a step backwards and pushed the button down. "When were you going to tell me that not all the splicers are the same?"

"I figured it would be wiser to try and describe them to you once you have a safe place to hide," Fang's explanation crackled over the radio, distorted by the static. "Since there's quite a few different kinds you need to know about…"

His communication cut off, and Max instantly meshed her finger to the button. "These guys are holding bats and pieces of metal, and are pretty ugly. Got any detail on these for me before they try and rip my limbs off and use them to club me to death?"

"Stop being melodramatic," came his reply, and Max growled at him, even though he couldn't hear her. It seemed to stop the advancing splicers for a few vital seconds, which Max was grateful for. "They're Primitive splicers, which means they have about as much intelligence as a wild money. They travel in small packs and can use a basic bludgeoning weapon, but they have the bloodlust of a hungry lion."

"Fantastic," Max replied as soon and as sarcastically as she could, readying her weapon as her eyes predicted which one would attack her first, her finger still pressed to the radio. "Remind me, when I find you, to hit you upside the head for lousy warning times."

Fang replied, but she didn't hear it. Just as the radio crackled into life the splicer holding the baseball bat jumped forwards and swung his weapon down hard at her left shoulder. Max ducked and avoided most of the swing, the impact as it did hit her sending a jar down her arm. Without giving it a moment to think she swung her own metal bar at it's leg, catching it right in the knee. There was a loud crack, it gave a squeal in pain and fell to the floor.

Picking up it's forgotten baseball bat in her left hand, Max stepped over it, holding both her weapons high. The remaining splicers had taken a few steps backwards, eyeing her wearily as they decided if it would be wiser to run or fight.

They made the wrong decision.

The second splicer, holding the piece of metal, charged forwards with a yell and swung its weapon at her stomach. Max jumped it with ease and brought her both her weapons down on the splicer's head as hard as she could. With a normal person it might have cracked their skull, but this one seemed to barely feel it, letting out a single yelp before aiming another hit at her rib.

This one caught, and Max was knocked off her feet and onto her side by the impact. Before she had time to comprehend the pain, the other splicer was looming over her, a wooden table leg aimed like a spear between her eyes. She rolled as it thrust the splintering pole forwards, getting to her feet in the process and taking another few steps backwards, putting some thinking distance between her and the remaining splicers.

They spread out to either side, blocking each exit like a pack of wolves cornering their prey. Max felt something grip her ankle, and quickly pulled it out of the grasp of the injured splicer, kicking him in the head for good measure. It went dead still, and her attention flipped back to her living opponents.

"Shit," she quickly ducked to avoid a blow to the head, the metal bar whizzing past her ear with a metallic tang. She dropped to the floor and caught herself with her hands, swinging her leg around and pulling the splicer's feet from under him. He fell to his back like a rock, giving Max just the millisecond she needed to plunge her metal pole into his chest.

He gurgled, and blood began to bubble in his mouth as he tried to utter something, then he was gone. Planting a foot firmly on the splicer's chest, Max pulled her metal bar out in one swift movement, her eyes never leaving the creature's face.

He may have been mutated, but you could still see the human in him. His face was still distorted in the fear he felt just before he died, and his face was a lot more human looking than the zombie splicer's had been, just a little small for his body.

She was brought back to the situation at hand abruptly as the splintered weapon of the remaining splicer came into sharp contact with her cheek. She was thrown a foot from her present position, sliding a few inches on her side when she slammed into the floor. Pulling herself off the ground, Max spat a shot of blood onto the already soiled floor and glanced up, her brain acknowledging the now incredibly pissed splicer charging at her, weapon raised for another impact.

Rolling onto her back, Max scrabbled for her weapon, unsure where it was but panicking brain not letting her take her eyes off of the creature in front of her. As it was staring to bring the weapon down, her and finally closed around her metal pole. She thrust it up in front of her as he jumped forwards, and the force of the splicer's attack impaled himself on the metal bar before it could hit home.

Breathing heavily, Max watched as the pain registered in the monster's eyes. It seemed scared, yet well aware of what was going to happen to it. Its weapon dropped to the floor with a thud as it tried to stem the bleeding with his now shaking hands, but it was no good. Her face softened as the monster that was trying to kill her just seconds before looked at her sorrowfully, and she swallowed hard.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, and then the splicer's eyes went blank, and his body limp.

She sat there for a few minutes, unable to take her eyes from the dead splicer hanging over her. Its blood was dripping onto her shirt, the smell of dirt, sweat and faeces burning her nose, but she couldn't move as a realisation dawned on her.

She was killing human beings. They looked different, but they were still human.

With all the strength the situation would let her muster, Max pushed the corpse to the side using the metal pole as leverage. It fell with a sickening thud, its limbs splayed and his face still set in a scared expression. Max scooted backward, away from it, before falling back on her backside, breathing heavily.

Silence followed as Max daren't take her eyes off of the fallen splicer. She wasn't sure if it was fear that it might get up again, or her brain trying to comprehend what she had done. Finally, she sniffed hard and wiped some blood off her face, composing herself before pressing a finger to the radio.

"They're humans," she finally stated after a short silence, trying to think of how to word what was on her mind. "Human beings, Fang. And I just killed them."

"They're aren't human anymore," he reminded her as Max pulled herself to her feet and advanced on the last splicer to fall, her metal pole still sticking out of his chest. "They used to be, but the only piece of human left now how they appear, and even that is lost on a zombie."

She nodded, trying to convince herself to believe him as she took a hold of the metal pole protruding from the splicer's chest. "You need to believe that Max." He continued as she yanked the pole from yet another body. "You need to believe they are no longer human, because they aren't going to spare you if they see you."

"It's kill or be killed," he added gently. "And I'd rather it was them than you."


	5. Dangerous Games

**Four parts without a review, but my brain seems to like writing this atm, so here's another one x3**

* * *

**Dangerous Games  
**

She continued along the corridors in silence for a while, the only speech being Fang's directions as she got to crossroads or doorways. Eventually she pushed open the last door and found herself overlooking the centre of the complex, her corridor opening out onto a narrow, ornate balcony that bordered the whole room.

Thankfully, like the other rooms and corridors, it seemed to be empty.

Pulling a prep bar out of her pocket, Max shuffled into a corner and pulled the wrapper off, taking a large bite out of it and chewing slowly. Her friend on the other end of the radio may have liked to bring her attitude, but what she'd seen so far had drained most of the enthusiasm she had in her system. As she swallowed and took another bite, she wasn't even sure she could cope with seeing another so called splicer, let alone killing it.

Puling the wrapper away from the rest of the bar, she discarded it on the floor and went to eat it, but instead her hand fell back to her lap while the other found the button on her radio. "Tell me," she asked, studying the rest of the prep bar as she said it. "What happened to all the people down here?"

As she waited for an answer she looked out over the balcony she was sitting next to, through the banisters and down into the main hall. A splicer had found his way in and was looking about nervously, and Max creased her brow.

She couldn't see a obvious reason to be scared.

"I don't know when they found it," Fang finally answered her, making her jump slightly. "But when they made this place, at some point, they found a sea slug with cells they called ADAM inside them, and these cells were like clay: They could moulded to do whatever the scientists down here decided they wanted them to do."

Max shuddered involuntarily before putting the rest of the prep bar in her mouth, listening as Fang continued: "They played with it and managed to make substances called Plasmids, which are fluids you can inject into your bloodstream and the ADAM allows it to change your DNA and give you the power of the Plasmid, which can be electricity or fire or something else like that.

"Splicers have used so much ADAM their DNA is ruined, and they mutate." He finished as Max gazed through the banisters at her guest. He'd finished looking about and picked up a weapon, now on the other side of the room. She watched with furrowed eyes as he banged on a golden, decorative looking vent on the wall.

She pushed the button on her radio. "What kind of splicer would bang on a vent?"

As soon as she let go of the button, the speaker crackled as Fang connected his own. "You aren't any where near the vent, are you?"

Max frowned, her eyes still on the splicer as he slipped to the side of the vent, weapon at the ready. She pushed down on the button again. "No where near, I'm up a balcony and its on the ground floor." As she let go of the button, she furrowed her brows. There was a little girl peeking out of the vent, a large surgical looking instrument in one hand as she looked for something.

"That's good, stay that way." Fang replied. Max's eyes widened as the splicer that banged on the vent hauled the little girl from the wall and dropped her heavily to the floor, raising his weapon over her and getting ready to bring it down.

"You avoided my question," Max stated as she watched the little girl start crawling backwards in fear, forcing the splicer to have to advance on her to hit her. "What kind of splicer would bang on a vent?"

The splicer raised his weapon one more time, is skinny arms having trouble hoisting the weight of the metal as he prepared to bring it down on the little girl's skull. He almost did it too, but froze and looked instantly panicked when the little girl opened her mouth and screamed:

"DADDY!"

"A dead one," Fang replied as Max watched the splicer lower his weapon and look around him in fear. She could hear heavy footsteps approaching, like a stampeding elephant was coming to the girl's aid. The girl herself had used the splicer's panic to get back to her feet and sprint to the other side of the room. She was now directly below Max's balcony, and Max had to get up and lean over to be able to see her.

Suddenly snapped back to reality, the splicer realised the little girl had run away from him, and quickly spotted her curled up in a protective ball on the other side of the room. The footsteps were still coming closer, and the splicer seem hasty as he ran at full pelt across the room, his weapon raised and uttering a cry as he advanced on her.

Every neurone in Max's body was firing, telling her to get down there and protect the little girl, but Fang's words were keeping her back. He told her to keep out of it, and though she rarely ever did what people told her before she ended up in Rapture, her common sense was telling her she should listen.

He'd been here longer, he knew the place better.

Even Max jumped when the doorway next to the little sister burst open, sharp pieces of metal flying all over the room below. The splicer immediately skidded to a halt, doing a double take and almost falling on his behind in the process. Max was wide eyed, watching the menacing creature that had just exploded through the wall with both curiosity and fear.

"What is _that_," she whispered over the radio, watching the massive monster whirr a drill arm menacingly at the splicer before it. It looked like an old fashioned diver's suit, its surface grimy and dirty like the rest of the place. The little girl cowered behind it, peeking past it's leg at the splicer.

The radio crackled. "The big-arse thing that probably just smashed its way into the room is called a Big Daddy," Fang explained as Max watched the splicer take a couple more steps back, unsure if he should run or try and fight it out. "They exist to look after the Little Sisters, who hide in the vent system until a Big Daddy comes to escort them."

Pulling back a little, Max rested her folded arms on the banister and then her head on her arms, watching as the Big Daddy threatened the splicer with its drill arm. The other was essentially just a gloved hand, it didn't seem to have any other weapon in its arsenal.

Finally, the splicer reached out his unoccupied hand and twisted it to a funny angle for barely a millisecond, and Max's eyes grew wide as saucers. She'd seen children with organs on the outside of their bodies and she herself had a huge set of wings, but she'd never seen anything like that.

She'd never seen anyone set their hand on fire before.

The splicer hurled a fireball at the Big Daddy, and that registered in Max's mind as a fatal mistake. The suited man shrugged the fire off as nothing more than an annoyance and charged forwards with the drill turning at full power, just missing the splicer as he dodged out of the way. The splicer brought his weapon down on the Big Daddy's head, but it shook off the blow and used its free hand to grab the splicer around the neck.

She saw it coming before it happened, and Max looked away and closed her eyes as the drill was shoved right through the splicer's stomach and out the other side. It threw blood everywhere until it was ripped out again and turned off, the thick red goo dripping to the floor while the monster in a diving suit stared at the dead being in his hand.

He dropped it to the floor like trash, then turned to the Little Sister.

Max could see something going horribly wrong here, but to her surprise the Big Daddy was terribly gentle as he picked up the little girl and put her on his shoulder, looking around for any more enemies before trudging off back through the door he had destroyed. Max let herself fall back against the wall, waiting a few seconds before pressing a finger to the button.

"So," she asked, her mind still coming to terms with all she'd seen that day. "Tell me, why would a splicer bang on a vent if he's likely to die? Unless he's already lost his marbles and is just waiting for something bigger to kill him."

"That substance, ADAM, is very valuable." Fang continued is lecture from earlier, sounding slightly relieved Max still seemed to be managing by herself. "Little sisters were made to collect the ADAM from dead bodies, so it isn't wasted. If you can get to one, they're an ADAM goldmine. That's why they made Big Daddies, to protect them while they harvest from corpses."

"This place is just endless fun and games, isn't it?" she asked as she pulled herself to her feet, stealing herself for another round of whack-the-splicer. Fang's response, despite how depressing it should have been, still put a smile on her face.

"If you like that, you'll _love _what I'm going to tell you next."


	6. Stupid Splicer

**Part 6**

"First off, I'm not spending the next week trekking about this place just to get to the lower floor of this room," Max stated as she got ready to climb over the banister, one hand on the rail while the other held the button on her radio. "And I _knew_ you needed me to save your ass. I just knew it."

Letting go of the button she sat down on the once delicately carved balcony and pulled her legs over one by one, taking great care in holding the railings tightly in case she slipped off the bar. She let out a single whistle as she admired the drop, swinging her feet in the air.

It was a long way down.

"The balcony is too high to jump from," Fang's voice flitted over the radio once more, the crackle making it sound almost robotic. Slowly, she began to spread her wings, both hands still firmly clasping the metal bar and her eyes cast down at the messy sight below. "And I don't need you to save me, just to lend me a hand."

She rolled her eyes as her tawny wings reached their full length, her feathers silky brown with light white dapples until it finally faded to pure white feathers at the very bottom layers. Checking she had a good balance first, Max carefully took a hand from the railing to hold down the button on her radio.

"Right," she said as she tested the muscles in her feathered appendages, flinching slightly as a few underused tendons were forced into action for the first time in at least five years. "Because being trapped in a room and surrounded isn't as good as dead." She had been allowed to learn to fly simply to check she was a success, and then they had been strapped to her back so she couldn't use them as an escape method.

Until now, that was.

Silence followed, and Max couldn't help but smile slightly as she edged her way to the edge of her railing, her body hanging precariously off the edge of the banister as she pressed the button again. "You must have really pissed them off, for them to camp outside your room."

"They cornered me," came his sharp reply, obviously annoyed by Max's impertinence. "And you could say I pissed them off, yes. Considering my job in this shit hole is to take all the ADAM off the streets. Splicers don't really take kindly to that idea."

_I imagine not, _Max thought as she tried to get the courage to leg go of the railing. If this idea didn't end well, she was going to be a mutant pancake with a blood topping in a matter of seconds. On the other hand, the chances of her surviving in this place for a week, considering what she'd been through in a single day, meant it was well worth the risk.

If by some miracle she survived to help Fang, that was going to be a bonus.

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Max let it out again very slowly, flexing her fingers against the cool metal. Taking one final peek at the ground below her eyelashes, she held her nose against the smell of congealing blood wafting up from below her and pushed herself off the balcony.

Even though she had her wings out, she could feel herself falling. Adrenaline flooded Max's system and she finally opened her eyes wide to watch the ground approaching her impossibly quickly. Barely a second later, an underused neurone fired in her head, and suddenly it felt like a really good idea to flap the thirteen and a half feet of wings rooted to her back.

Her heart rate still going crazy, relief started to overpower the adrenaline as her wings lifted her from her fast decent and up a little, barely clearing the floor as she pulled back into the air. There wasn't much space to manoeuvre, but she managed (if somewhat clumsily) to execute a landing on the other side of the room, as far away from the dead splicer as possible.

She may have killed a good few already, but it was still disgusting.

"Ok, I'm on the ground floor," she stated through her radio, looking about her. There seemed to only be two doors into the room; the one she assumed she'd enter through if she trekked about the place, and the one under the door she'd come through on the first floor. Her eyes fell on the mess of a splicer in front of her, and bile rose in her throat.

The radio crackled into life. "Please tell me you didn't jump off the balcony."

Taking a few steps towards the door, she still couldn't pull her eyes from the mess in front of her. The poor guy had a massive hole in his middle, which had finally stopped spewing blood all over the floor. A river of red had spread out to his left, pooling in a dip in the floor. Swallowing a rising sickness, she pressed a finger to the communicator.

"In a word," she replied offhandedly, looking up at the sheer drop she'd just launched herself from the top of. She frowned slightly and zoomed in on a dot up on the third floor with her raptor vision, though what she saw didn't surprise her in the least.

It was a Splicer, but the looks of it a primitive, looking down at her.

"I told you it was too high," Fang replied as she watched the splicer try and fit through the bars of the balcony. With no luck, it then attempted to crawl over it, seemingly unaware of the drop it was about to come face to face with. Max took a few steps backwards, towards the door.

It screamed, a mixture of hate and fear, as it plummeted from the third floor balcony, its limbs flailing wildly as it tried to imitate Max's own flight. She squeezed her eyes shut and looked away as it hit the floor hard, unable to block out the sickening thump of body smacking against floor.

She took a few seconds to steel herself for what she'd see, then Max opened her eyes and forced herself to look around. What she saw did horrify her, but it wasn't what she expected to see.

The splicer was still alive, even if there was blood bubbling from its mouth with every syllable it tried to utter. Seemingly oblivious to the pain it should be in, the monster was pulling itself towards it's still walking prize with just its arms, its legs splayed and useless behind it. His hips looked dislocated, limply and unnaturally dragged behind the dying splicer as it tried to reach it's intended victim.

"I'm fine," she finally responded, her eyes glued to the creature crawling towards her. It seemed to be trying its hardest, but slowly it's movements were getting more strained. It covered less distance with every crawl. Pain was finally beginning to cloud its eyes, and Max couldn't bare to watch anymore.

"Just tell me where to go."


	7. Quick Decisions

**Short update, because my brain is refusing to write today .-. I hope its not too bad lol.**

* * *

**Part 7**

Max tiptoed along the length of the corridor, the metal bar raised above her head and the radio now in her free hand and held close to her mouth. She could feel her heartbeat speeding up as she neared the next room, but she kept her breathing as quiet and even as possible as she approached the end of the corridor.

Though Fang couldn't see where Max was, he was sure she was getting close to his booth now. He didn't remember going through any other passages from the room with the massive balconies except the one she was in now, so had warned her to be quiet and cautious approaching the next room.

He was right, too.

Pressing herself to the wall, Max closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. She tightened her grip on the metal pole, poised her other hand over the radio transmission button and had a peek around the corner.

What little hope she had this would be an easy battle dissolved at that moment. She was in a disused station of some kind, with a few ticket booths scattered about along the trail that led to another gloomy, ill lit passage beyond them. The carpet was grey with dirt and dust, and there was a small leak, water trickling down a ticket booth and forming a puddle on the floor.

In front of just one of these ticket booths was a gathering of primitive splicers. One of them was staring right at the door and emitting a primitive growl, occasionally roaring and head butting it or attacking it with its clawless fingers. Another five were gathered in a circle a foot or so away from the door picking up bits of trash on the floor and studying them curiously. A seventh splicer was standing a little further away, a metal pole in his grasp.

Max ducked back around the corner, her finger hanging over the button but not pressing it. She readjusted her grip on the pole, staring at the wall in front of her as her mind ticked over. She wasn't stupid, and she took a deep breath as she pressed her finger to the button.

Inside the booth, Fang flinched as a splicer charged the door again. He was slouched in an office chair with a little radio identical to Max's placed on the table in front of him. The floor and desk were littered with wrappers and bottles from the stuff he'd consumed over the past few weeks, but he didn't even see them when his eyes rooted to the fuzzing radio.

"There are seven," she finally whispered as she stared at the hallway fall in front of her. She resisted the urge to slide down the wall as she took another deep breath. "There's no way you're getting out of there while they're that close to your door…"

Fang squeezed his eyes shut as she said it. The splicers had plenty of time to move on, but as Max neared him the banging on the door told him they hadn't utilised it in the way he hoped they would. She wouldn't have a chance, and he didn't want to send her to her death. Shaking his head very slightly he leant forwards and picked up the radio to answer, but it buzzed before he could press the button down.

"You damn well better we ready to move," Max's voice floated over the intercom, causing his finger to pause just above the button. "Because I'm not risking my neck just for the two of us to become splicer chow, got it?"

He glanced down at the desk in front of him. There was a clear spot right in front of him where he'd been resting his feet for a few weeks, the rest of it littered with crisp and prep bar wrappers and other scraps of food he'd pulled together. There was a small clear spot where the radio had been, but that was soon gone like his footrest when he leant forwards and swept all the rubbish onto the floor, radio in his lap as he searched for his weapon.

Finally, he found it. His pistol.

He flicked open the chamber and was glad to see the chamber was fully loaded. With a sigh, he stood from his chair and attached his radio to his belt before pressed a finger of the hand holding the pistol to the transmitter, his other hand hovering over the switch that would open the door now directly in front of him.

"You don't have to do this, Max." He stated as he prepared to open the door. He tightened his grasp on the pistol a little and took another steadying breath, resting his other hand on the switch, ready to press it. "I thought at least some of them would have gotten bored by now and left, but they're still all here. You can leave if you want, I wouldn't blame you.

"Only one of us has to die today."

Waiting with his hand on that button was the longest ten seconds of his life. He let go of the transmitter and dropped the gun to his side, not taking his eyes off the door or even flinching as a splicer charged at it with an animalistic roar. He was well aware there was no chance of killing every splicer if they all ran at him at once. He was dead meat.

Around the corner Max was making a decision of her own. She frowned determinedly and tightened her grip on her own weapon, pressing the transmit button with a lot of more force than she needed to. His own radio crackled, and Fang looked down at it on his belt.

"I'd already be dead if it wasn't for you," she stated, taking another peek around the corner. None of the splicers had moved, and the deranged once was clawing uselessly at Fang's door. "If I die today, at least one of us is still breathing."

At first he couldn't believe she was still going to help him. He was almost asking her to throw her life away, distracting that many splicers at once, but then he smiled as he moved to hide next to the door against the wall, hand still poised on the operator button.

"I'm out in five. You damn well better cover me, or I'm haunting your ass." Her last transmission filled Fang's small little office, and he couldn't help but smile as he pressed the button on his own radio down for the very last time.

"You can count on it." He replied. And then all hell broke lose.


	8. Human Splicer: Spider

**Alrighty, this is a four and a half page (in word) update for you, since its been a while I gave you something to read on this one .-. I hope you havent left me XD Because I honestly swear this has not been fogotten. My brain just didnt wan t to write it.**

**Part 8**

Even with her back pressed to the dirty wall behind her, it felt like the world was spinning as Max counted back from five under her breath. The familiar feeling of adrenaline flooded her system in seconds, causing her muscles to shake. Despite the rush her mind became clearer and she tried to formulate a plan, swallowing hard and reminding herself to breathe.

She'd had a lot of time to think about plans back at the school, when she was locked away on her own for hours on end in a small cage. It passed the time to think about escape: the routes she'd use, the most effective ways to bring down an Eraser, what she'd do if she got cornered.

If you told her she'd use these strategies against zombies, she would have laughed at you.

"Four," she muttered to herself, taking another precautionary peek around the corner. She couldn't remember where all of the splicers were, and she needed them clear in her mind while she formulated a plan with more structure than 'rush out and whack anything that moves'.

Most of the splicers still hadn't moved, but now Max was surveying the room as well she noticed a lot more than the first time round. There were at least a dozen splicer corpses littering the floor, all in different states of decomposition, amongst the rubbish and debris the living ones were pawing through. She couldn't pull her eyes from one of them as it crawled over to a body and sniffed it slightly, barely pausing before it began to pull rancid flesh from the dead splicer's shoulder.

That was enough for Max, and she ducked back around the corner, swallowing the rising bile.

"Three," she whispered, feeling her pulse quicken, the blood pressure pounding in her ears. When she misbehaved, she was always threatened with decommissioning. She didn't really know what the word meant while she was there, but the other experiments, the few that had been there longer than her, and even her supervisor would tell her it meant she would be killed.

Many a night she heard the new Erasers out in the paddock, being trained to hunt and kill in case an experiment tried to escape. She could still hear the terrified screams of chimpanzees as they ran from the howling, grotesque creatures, their cries as they were ripped apart and bled to death.

This, her brain had told her, this has to be decommissioning.

She had always been terrified of being put outside with the Erasers but, just for a second, Max wished she had met that fate. The pain and terror would have been over with within minutes, and she could have slipped into the silence known as death. Then she reopened her eyes and, as they focused on the wall in front of her, a new determination filled her. She tightened her grip on the pole and nodded once, mentally rallying herself into battle mode. No more school, and no more Erasers. If she wanted to be free she was going to have to fight for it.

That, she was willing to do.

"One," she whispered and turned on the spot to face what could be her last battle, but she paused before even taking a step out of the corridor. In front of her, half way around the corner and now dead still, was a splicer. It was on all fours and there was blood coloured drool hanging from its mouth, its yellow and amber eyes fixed on Max's own.

Her heart had done a back flip, but now it was beating stronger and faster than ever. The splicer seemed to think if it didn't move, she wouldn't see it. Maybe it was some kind of primitive defence response, like playing dead, but Max couldn't give a flying catfish.

She raised her bar and brought it down heavily on the splicer's head.

The first blow seemed to do barely any damage, but the stunned creature stumbled and had to catch itself to prevent crashing to the ground. This gave it no time to react or defend itself as she brought the bar down repeatedly, until she could see blood coming from his mouth and he moved no more.

Pulling her eyes from the corpse, Max forced herself to step over it and press herself against the wall, taking a couple of deep breaths before peeking around the corner once again. She was met with six pairs of eyes boring into her own and she stood there, staring at the yellow green hue of their eyes as an involuntary shudder flowed through her arms and legs.

So much for the element of surprise.

She went to take a step back, hoping the wall would provide her with some kind of cover against the advancing army of monsters, but she wasn't looking where she was going. With her eyes fixed on the splicer closest to her, she stepped back onto the arm of the dead splicer sprawled behind her, lost her balance, and fell forwards.

The advancing splicers stopped dead, heads tilted to the side, as both she and the metal bar hit the floor with a clang and the latter began to roll away from it's owner. With a soft groan, Max raised her head very slightly from the floor and tested her jaw, breathing a sigh of relief she hadn't smashed it.

A soft growl dragged Max's eyes towards the splicers, and it dawned on her that, no only were they moving again, the one in front was too close for comfort. She could almost smell the blood on its lips. She could certainly smell the rest of the creature, the stench burning her nose like a hot curry, as she flipped her eyes forwards to find her weapon.

It was a few feet out of arm's length.

She scrambled to her feet as the splicer holding the steel bar let out something between a roar and a battle cry, and all the others shot forwards in a series of roars and growls. Their gait was sloping but fast as they closed the distance between them and their new target, jumping towards Max on their hands and feet as she stooped for her weapon.

Metal bar raised, she didn't have time to think as the first splicer launched itself at her and bit into her right arm. She almost dropped her weapon, a squeak escaping her lips as its yellow teeth pierced her flesh. She transferred the bar to her less dominant hand, aimed, and swung the pole as hard as she could at the monster's jaw.

A loud crack filled the air and the splicer dropped from her with a yelp, taking a few seconds to nurse it's shattered jaw. Max stumbled back a few steps to inspect the damage on her arm, becoming aware that she was shaking as she glanced out over the splicers now happily cornering her where she stood.

Now was not the time for a breakdown.

With blood forming a small river down her right arm, coupled with the burning pain coming from the edges of the wound, it was pretty obvious that arm was out of action unless things got extreme. She swung the metal pole once before gripping it tightly, setting a leg back in a fighting stance and readying herself for what might be her last fight.

It was barely a second later anther splicer made a leap for her, and Max greeted it with a swift whack to the jaw with her pole. The creature was sent flying down the hall the dead splicer was in, but she didn't have time to follow it with her eyes as another made a jump for the kill.

The strength was refusing to come back to her arm, and for a millisecond Max thought she might be dead, that it would rip her throat out and she'd be just a memory. Then her survival instinct kicked in, and instead of letting the monster rip the life from her neck, she ducked.

The creature hit the wall head first, the loud snapping sound as its nose connected with the wall lost in the low growls of the remaining splicers still working on their own strategies. Max shuffled away from the wall the instant she dropped to the floor, spinning onto her backside just in time to see her assailant drop, lifelessly, to the floor.

The bone in its nose had punctured his brain. It was dead.

"Kill her!" The splicer holding the pole roared, and a series of primitive roars followed as they rallied themselves into bloodlust. Max should have been worried, scrambling back to her feet ready to face the remaining splicers, but instead she just frowned at the splicer holding a weapon. None of the other splicers had spoken a syllable, yet this one, she was sure, had just said two words.

Her time for contemplation ran short very quickly. She was pulling herself up from the damp, musty floor as the remaining three crab-like splicers began their attack once more. She held her injured arm tight to her and raised the pole defensively, almost resigning herself to death as they charged at her.

Luckily for Max, she'd been a very good distraction. Not even the splicer holding back with the metal pole noticed a door slide open, let alone that someone had slipped out of it and into the shadows. On the other side of the room Max yelled as loud as she could, trying in vain to slow the splicers by scaring them, judging when she should take her first swing.

Then a loud bang filled the room, and silence fell.

With primitiveness came the fear of the unknown, and every splicer stopped dead at the sound. They looked about confusedly, but Max already knew what it was. One of them noticed their comrade slumped on the floor in front of Max and he jumped back, the other quickly following suit, gibbering in a forgotten tongue.

Pole still raised to the heavens, Max studied the corpse in front of her. His head was just inches from her feet and Max was silently thankful it hadn't landed on her as a small river of blood began to make a pool on the floor. The unfortunate splicer had a messy bullet wound in the back of it's head, which had killed it instantly.

Looking up, Max forgot she was holding her weapon high and kept it there, here eyes skimming past the upset splicers to the one holding the bar, the one that had spoken, and frowned. Not only had he spoken, but he was standing on two legs rather than four and, apart from the grime and filth everyone seemed to accumulate in Rapture, he actually looked human.

Another gunshot made Max jump, dropping her weapon to the floor as a second splicer fell with a gaping wound in the side of his head. The last remaining primitive splicer cried out in fear and ran down the corridor and out of sight, screeching and yelling for a few seconds after as it put distance between itself and the death room.

The splicer obviously didn't understand what a gun was, but Max did. After the splicer had run away she tore her eyes from the splicers oozing blood into the already sodden carpet and tried to find the source of the gunfire.

She didn't have to look very far. The splicer holding the bar now had a gun to his head.

Fang pressed the gun into the splicer's temple, who grudgingly dropped his weapon and raised his hands in surrender. He didn't consider himself a coward for choosing a long range weapon, but a survivor. There were only so many hand to hand combats you could win.

He glanced out over the carnage to see the girl he supposed was Max staring at him, looking a bit bemused. He gave her a slight smile, just a twitch of the lips, before turning his attention back to the mutant in front of him, jabbing the gun barrel harder into it's temple for good measure.

"Nice to see you again," he stated, pulling his other hand out of his pocket but holding it at his side. The splicer glared at him out of the corner of his eyes, knowing he was defeated but not wanting to show weakness. "Least this time I can dispatch you. That might send strong message to your Governor, don't you think?"

Though her fear was finally catching up with her, Max started stepping over the corpses towards who she thought to be Fang and the seemingly different subspecies of splicer. She'd almost forgotten to pick her metal bar back up, but now it hung by her left side, her right arm still pulled protectively to her chest.

She heard the splicer snort. "There's ten to take my place, Fang."

A flick of the wrist had bright electricity dancing between Fang's fingers, and Max froze. It reminded her of the splicer that had got itself killed, though it's hand had been dancing with flames not static. She held back about thirty feet with her weapon raised at her side, in case she needed it.

Fang held his sparking hand up to the splicer's face, and Max was sure she saw it flinch. "And you were just another in a long line, remember? I've taken down at least ten before you, maybe after another ten your Governor will get the message." The electricity sparked, and the splicer shuddered involuntarily as a few of the tips touched its skin and sent a shock down its body.

"Try me," it said.

Before Max could think the splicer had elbowed Fang's gun arm down and issued another elbow to his face, knocking the teen backwards a little way. He recovered ridiculously easy, however, and the electrified hand came up and shot a ball of fizzing blue energy at his assailant. The splicer leapt into the air and Max's eyes widened at how high the mutant man could jump, clearing the ball with ease.

"Come on then!" It yelled as it scaled the ceiling as agile and fast as a spider, pulling sharp hook shaped metal objects from it's belt. Fang looked up and aimed his gun, but he didn't fire. "Fire away, Fangy Boy. We all know what a lousy shot you are when you don't have time to sit and aim!"

The creature launched a hooked projectile with each arm, forcing Fang to dance about them as he tried to aim at his moving target. He fired four times, then a fifth just before he dropped to avoid another hooked weapon aimed right for his face. It skimmed his cheek as he fell, and he caught himself on all fours before pulling himself back to his feet.

One bullet left. He didn't have much chance.

The splicer was scurrying all over the ceiling once again, in and out of the shadows so fast it was near impossible to get a fix on it. It laughed maniacally as it circled its prey, throwing more and more weapons for the teen to avoid as he tried to get a good shot.

Though he was easily beating Fang, the splicer had forgotten he had another enemy in the room. While he scurried around Fang's head making it impossible for the boy to get a clear shot, Max was pulling her arm back and getting ready to fire her own projectile. She waited just a second, timing her swing as best as she could, before lobbing her metal pole at the ceiling as hard as she could.

It didn't see it coming, and neither did Fang. His eyes widened as the metal pole connected with the splicer's head with a loud crack, then he span to look at his accomplice. She didn't look too well, and her arm was flooded with blood, but she managed a smile and a thumbs up with her good hand. He quirked up the corner of his mouth.

She was _good._

He turned back in time to see the splicer fall to the floor with a crash. Fang was sure he heard bones breaking, but he didn't want to take the chance. Without hesitating he raised his gun and aimed it at the creatures head, taking a few seconds to check his shot before putting his last bullet right into the crazy splicer's brain.

Dropping his empty gun to his side, Fang let a single heavy breath. He kept his eyes on the splicer to make sure it didn't move, but even then he couldn't pull his eyes away from the gruesome sight. It was only when Max stepped up beside him he finally snapped out of it and glanced at the side of her face.

She was pale, he noted, and was holding the top of her injured arm with her good one, a metal pole once again in her grasp. Her hair was a tangled mess hanging about her shoulders, her grey shirt and jogging pants were both tattered and ripped, and the blood trail was running down her fingers and dripping on the floor.

He slipped the gun into his waistband and glanced back over the room, at all the dead splicers, new and old, and the litter about the floor. Carefully, he took her arm and began leading her back to the little ticket booth, where he had bandages and a medical kit. He should have been grateful, considering he finally able to leave this room and continue his work, but his mind was ticking over other things.

Like the symbol on her shirt. He recognised it, and it wasn't because it was a brand name.


	9. Rest Stop

**Rest Stop**

The first thing Max noticed about her new partner was that he was very quiet. He'd been talkative over the radio for sure, but now she was sat with him in person he was barely saying a word. She gazed down at him from the office chair as he knelt down and moved to pull something from under the cluttered desk, batting dust bunnies and trash out of his way.

She would have been more talkative herself if she wasn't feeling so poorly. Not only had the burning of her wound increased in intensity, but the sensation now covered her whole arm in varying degrees of pain. Her finger felt like they were sunburnt, while the wound itself could have been immersed in an actual fire.

On top of that she was finding it hard to breathe, while the rest of her body was freezing cold.

Fang fell back on his haunches and pulled a small, metal box from under the table, placing it on his lap and quickly popping the catches on either side. The originally white casing was now orange and red with rust and dirt, but the hinges opened easily enough when he flipped the lid open.

The contents of the box looked brand new, the tiny thumb-size glass bottle with no lid kept in perfect condition by the lilac foam padding both underneath it and in the lid. In another indent in the foam was what looked like the top of a squirt bottle, and two vials no bigger than Max's little finger containing clear fluid were set into the foam as well.

He wasted no time in standing the empty glass bottle upright and unscrewed the first vial, pouring half of the contents in before placing that one back in the box. He did the same with the next vial before screwing the squirt bottle lid onto the small glass bottle and giving the mixture a vigorous shake.

The contents of the bottle went sapphire blue, the same shade as Fang's electricity.

"This'll hurt," he said simply, pulling Max's arm from her chest and stretching it out in front of him. He felt her tug against his grip and held her wrist a little firmer, giving the bottle one last shake before aiming the nozzle at the worst part of the wound and pulled the trigger.

Letting out an involuntary squeak she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to yank her arm from his grasp, the substance sizzling on the wound, a small amount of steam floating from her flesh. Ignoring her, Fang tightened his grip further and continued to spray on the odd liquid, soaking the worst of the wound before lightly coating the rest of her arm.

He didn't expect her to be so strong, he almost let go.

Pretty soon though, Max was no longer pulling against his grip, but staring at the small bottle in his hand with interest. Whereas it had burned even worse than the wound itself to start with, the medicine was now cooling the area, reducing the pain to just a tingling feeling. Her fingers had already begun to feel normal again and she flexed them, enjoying the cooling sensation that was spreading through her body, carried by her bloodstream.

The sensation reached her lungs and the surrounding tissue and, almost instantly, it felt as if someone had loosened a belt that had been fastened tightly around her. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, finally able to breathe normally again.

"What is that stuff?" she asked when Fang let go of her arm and studied it silently. The wound was already stitching itself up, but there would be a few small scars where the splicer's teeth had penetrated the deepest. He pushed himself up onto his knees, taking her chin in one hand and turning her head to study the bruise forming on her cheek.

"Dunno," he added, raising the squirt bottle and warning: "Cover your eyes," he waited for her to raise her hand before spraying, keeping the spray constant until the bruise began to fade and shrink. In a few seconds it was like it was never there, and Fang put the spray bottle down on the floor.

She raised a hand to the previously tender skin and studied her cheek with her fingers. Any sign of the bruise was completely gone, and the skin was no longer sensitive as it had been a few minutes before. She dropped her hand back down and turned her arm over to look at the wound, but was just met with two small, spider-like bite marks.

"That's amazing," she whispered, running her fingers over the little scars.

Fang placed the spray bottle on the table and hauled himself back to his feet, leaving the empty first aid box discarded on the floor. He knew from experience the substance in the bottle would be useless within another two minutes, and he didn't have any major injuries to heal, so there was no point taking it with them.

He picked up his empty gun from the table and slipped it into his jeans pocket. Though he hadn't arrived dressed so casually he'd found a clothes department with a few odds and ends in. After sifting through the really old attire and shirts he wouldn't be seen dead in, he finally found a few boxes of clothes from the 80's stashed at the back of the run down store. At the time he hadn't questioned why, as he hadn't with the splicers and everything else that was out for his blood, and simply kicked off his grey smock and revelled in the normal clothes he had been finally able to wear.

"We need to keep moving," he stated, staring out of the door at the battleground they had left behind. He took a glance at Max and saw the glimmer of fear that glistened in her eyes, the one he knew had played in his own almost every day since he got here two years ago, and a little pity panged in his stomach.

He was surprised, however, when the glint disappeared almost as quickly as it appeared, and a rejuvenated Maximum Ride pulled herself from the chair and picked up the bar like she'd been doing this shit all her life.

"Which way?" She asked, tucking the bloodied and dented pole under her arm. With the addition of the scars on her arm and the blood that had splattered across her face and into her golden brown hair, she looked much more determined and sinister than Fang could ever have given her credit for without meeting her.

He couldn't help the smile that quirked up the side of his mouth, and was relieved that Max smiled along with him rather than hit him with the pole. He nodded towards the door with his head before stepping out, and Max followed close on his heels.

She was right. Maximum Ride was like no other girl he'd ever seen.


	10. One Insult Too Many

**No. I'm not dead.**

**Well, I finally managed to start getting my writing bunnies back, it seems. Carrot cake bait is so much better than just plain old carrots. =D So yeah...this is the first fic they wanted to update, and to thank them for coming back, I'm allowing it . I hope you all haven't run away - this story has a lot of stuff to cover yet, and I dont plan on abandoning any of them. At all. Not a sausage.**

**Also, University = big time-eater. I'll be getting a netbook in the new year, so I can do stuff either work related or fiction related on the 3 hour commute every day, so hopefully updates for all stories will become more frequent *fingers crossed***

**I'm sorry if I haven't replied to any reviews - If you post any new ones, I promise to send you a little message to thank you for it! I do love hearing people's opinions. . Now, enjoy:**

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**One Insult Too Many**

"You have _got_ to be kidding."

Max paused through the doorway and stared up at the ceiling, but Fang continued picking his way over the rubble without even looking back. She gazed up at the series of ornate balconies that bordered the walls of the room with her mouth half open in disbelief, tucking her hand free hand into her pocket and shaking her head very slightly.

She's come through here just an hour before. Any doubt it could just be a similar room was erased by the two dead bodies that greeted her as she cast her eyes about the area. The idiot that had followed her off of the balcony was finally silent and still, one arm outstretched as if he was reaching for something, the other behind him to pull himself forwards, his eyes glassy and lifeless.

A shudder spread through Max's spine and she forced herself to look away, averting her eyes from the other corpse in the middle of the room to focus on Fang's back. It didn't help that he was, at that moment, utilising his long legs to step over the body she was trying to avoid looking at without touching even the blood pool that had accumulated beside it.

With one leg on either side of the corpse, Fang took a fleeting look down at the body he was trying to avoid touching. Though it was obviously a splicer he was still pretty normal looking. His genetic degeneration was minimal to the extent you could barely tell he was different from anyone you met on the street, minus the slight grey-ness of his skin, but that could have been due to a lack of sunlight.

So many years ago, when he had first been dumped in Rapture and found his way out of the little submarine he'd woken on, Fang might have vomited when subjected to that. The smell of iron and body odour was overwhelming and there was blood virtually everywhere. Not to mention he could see clear through to the floor below the splicer when looking at his chest.

Instead he just cringed as he dragged his other leg over the body, careful not to let his feet touch the corpse or even the blood surrounding it. These kind of situations had quickly become an every day occurrence during his first few days in Rapture, and by the end of the week he could swallow the bile as it rose in his throat without even looking sick.

He erased the image from his mind and focused on his next objective: Finding somewhere safe to rest. He didn't need the time out, as he had been trapped in that booth for the best part of a week and couldn't have felt better. He was however, worried that Max had seen more than she thought she could handle, and was hoping to find somewhere secure before she had a mental breakdown and became a gibbering wreck.

Taking a glance over his shoulder he saw Max picking her way over the rubble in the doorway. She'd been actively erasing images from her mind since her first encounter with the Zombie splicer and had wasted no time in forgetting about the lifeless corpse reaching for her from the other side of the room. She raised her eyes from the floor to see Fang look away from her and head for the door on the other side of the room.

_Why am I even following him?_ She asked herself as she began closed the distance between herself and her new friend, if she could feel comfortable using that term just yet. _It's not like I know anything about him. Now he doesn't need me, he might kill me the next chance he gets. He certainly didn't hesitate to shoot the splicer back there._

Both her legs and her thoughts stopped dead when she reached the corpse in the middle of the room. Her foot was still a few inches off of the blood puddle in front of her, and it took barely a second's contemplation to pull her leg back and put her foot down in anything but the congealing goo.

A glance up told her that whatever else was going through his mind, one thing Fang wasn't thinking about was waiting for her to catch up. He already had each hand on separate metal poles on the gear door and was straining to pull them down and open the door. As of now he wasn't having much luck, the door refusing to budge even an inch.

Looking back down at the corpse, Max wrinkled her nose, averted her gaze and took a deep breath, holding it as she stepped her first leg over the bloodied mess that used to be a splicer. It look every inch of her shorter legs to get over the body without stepping in any blood or even on part of the splicer itself. She took a few seconds to test her balance before pulling her other leg over in one quick motion, hopping a few steps forwards to make sure her second foot missed the blood puddle as well.

She had to physically stop herself looking over her shoulder at the body, swallowed hard, and instead headed over to Fang.

Fang grunted as he threw all of his strength into trying to get the gear on the door to budge. Some of the doors in Rapture were dodgy and hated to open, but this one was well and truly stuck, which was terrible as it was the way back to the Safe Zone. He rested his muscles for just a second then threw them into pulling the gear down again.

And to his surprise, it moved.

It was sluggish and resilient, but the gear was beginning to turn as the mechanism groaned. Fang took his hand off the lower bar and moved it to the top one as if it were a ladder he was climbing, throwing all his energy into dragging the heavy gear downwards, forcing it to open.

When he opened his eyes again, he realised why the door had suddenly begun to budge. On the other side, with the other two metal poles in each hand, was Max. She'd braced herself against the gear and then begun forcing the poles on her side upwards, the opposite direct to Fang's. The extra strain had been too much for the stubborn door, and it had been forced to move.

She caught him staring at her as she strained to help him open the door. He had curiosity playing about is eyes, even if the rest of him looked blank and unfriendly. She moved a hand down to the metal pole that had come up from Fang's side, just missing hitting her in the leg, and offered him a small, confident smile.

He returned it with a sideways smirk, and then the door clicked open.

Max stooped to pick up her bloodied bar while Fang tugged the door open, turning on her heels to follow him into the new room, but she stopped in her tracks and frowned. He had stopped in the doorway, with the door just half open, and seemed to be frozen to the spot. Cautiously, Max crept up behind him and slipped onto her tip toes, peering over his shoulder.

There, just a few feet from Fang's chest, was a Zombie splicer. It was staring blankly at him with one hand on the door, it's well and truly dislocated jaw wobbling slightly with every strained breath that left the creature's body. It's flesh seemed to be rotting while still attached to bone, and one of it's eyes was hanging an inch out of it's eye socket.

Feeling bile rise in her throat, Max swallowed with a gulp.

"Give me the pole," Fang whispered over his shoulder, carefully moving his hand off the doorframe and positioning it behind his back. The monstrosity of science tilted it's head and uttered something close to the noise a dog makes when being strangled - it's own noise for curiosity.

Behind him, Max wasn't listening. All of her attention, whether she wanted it to be or not, was on the grotesque figure before her. As it tilted it's head, it's eye wobbled on the few tendons that were holding it in, and another wave of nausea and disgust flooded her system.

Added to the smell, it was too much to bear - she gagged. And that upset the splicer.

Before she could turn around to vomit, Fang had snatched the pole from her grasp and pushed her further behind him. The pole connected with the splicer before it's remaining brain cell could even think, though the impact did very little itself except startle the beast. Those few seconds were long enough for Fang to regain his balance, reposition the pole and jam it through the monster's pathetic excuse for a lower jaw, through its mouth and into its brain.

It hit the floor at the same time as the prep bar Max had eaten earlier. It was just as dead too.

Placing a foot against the creature's head, Fang wrenched the bar from the creature's face and cringed at the fresh stench of iron that followed. He wiped the sticky red fluid on his jeans before spinning round to look at the back of Max's head.

By this point Max had collapsed to her knees, had her head bowed to the ground and was spitting the last of her breakfast onto the floor. She could feel her body spasming as another semi-wave of nausea trickled through her stomach. Retching, she tried to ignore the smell of vomit and regain her composure, her body slowly coming to terms with her sudden heaving.

Fang knelt down beside her. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly as Max's shudders slowly became nothing more than a twitch. After a few seconds delay she nodded slowly, her eyes still turned down to the ground, even though they were closed. Noticing she'd managed to miss getting any vomit in her hair, Fang gently tucked it behind her ears, withdrawing quickly when he felt her tense up at contact.

He stood back up and took a few steps backwards, giving Max space as she spat some fowl tasting saliva onto the floor and took a deep slightly shaky breath. With one final, strained swallow she flicked the few escaped strands of hair back and pulled herself to her feet, wiping her mouth on her sleeve as she turned to face Fang.

They stared at each other in silence for a moment, until Max held her hand out to him. He flipped her pole up in the air and caught it by the sticky end, offering her the cleaner part, which she didn't hesitate to grasp. Once he'd relinquished the bloodied end, she dropped it to her side without breaking eye contact, straightening up and setting her shoulders back defiantly. Though he was impressed with her perseverance, Fang didn't show it.

Instead, nodded his head towards the open door as he took a step backwards. "Not much farther. Then you can rest."


	11. Hole in the Wall

**Chapter 11**

They had managed to travel for a further ten minutes without seeing a splicer when they reached the an old restaurant. While Fang teased open a window he knew was unlocked, Max studied the sign on the front of the building. Most of the letters were long gone and the ones that were left were so grimy that she couldn't make out any of them. Just an image of a pair of teacups on the window remained visible, half shielded by dust and grime.

She snapped her head round at the small squeak beside her, but was relieved to note it was just the window complaining as Fang slithered through the gap he's made between the pane and the frame. She could feel every muscle in her body twitching with nerves walking over to the window, then started to wiggle through.

She'd been here just a day, and she already needed a holiday.

Now inside the forgotten café, Fang quickly studied his old hideout - nothing seemed to have been moved, dust and grime still covered every available surface and, most importantly, the piece of metal he had jammed between the walk-in fridge door and it's frame was still exactly where he had left it.

Satisfied no one had been in here since his last visit, he turned back to the window, and was greeted with Max's face as she shuffled her body through the small space he'd left for her. He raised an eyebrow at her before taking her under the arms, ignoring her sudden stiffness, and pulled her swiftly through the gap.

Once her legs were clear of the windowsill, he hauled her surprisingly light frame up and set her on her feet, then wasted no time in forcing the window down once more. Max let her gaze wander about the room. It was in a slightly less decrepit state than the other rooms she'd been in, just a bit dusty and stale.

The hairs on the back of her neck pricked up, and she span round to find Fang standing barely six inches from her.

"I was going to open the door," he stated with what Max thought was a hint of amusement, though going by his face he could have been anything from constipated to dying and you wouldn't know the difference. She stared at him for a few seconds, trying to find a definable emotion on his features, before giving up and shrugging, turning back to the room.

"Where's the fun in that?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips and surveying the room properly. The large space had probably once been occupied by many tables and chairs, filled with happy people enjoying a coffee and a gossip. Now, just a few rusted tables lay forgotten in the corner, and the only chair Max could find was in five or six pieces. "Nice pad," she commented dryly.

Fang brushed past her and walked over to the walk-in fridge. "Very," he added with a sarcastic tone, grabbing the piece of metal he's jammed against the door handle. "Did the dust decorating myself." A grunt escaped his lips as he pulled the metal bar free of the industrial handle on the fridge. Leaning the solid metal against the wall, he proceeded to force the stiff handle down and yank the heavy door open.

He motioned inside with his free hand as the lights beyond the door flickered to life. "This," he paused for dramatic effect while Max took a few steps closer, eyebrow raised and arms folded across her chest. "Is my 'pad'." he finally continued when she reached the doorway, peering inside the now yellow-lit room cautiously. "Which I did actually decorate."

It honestly wasn't what Max had expected.

Obviously, Fang had been using the place as a hideout for a while. Though the electrics still worked he had disconnected the cooling mechanism, or possibly renovated it, as it wasn't as warm in there was it was in the hallways of Rapture. Ceiling high storage racks lined the sidess of the fifteen-foot wall cavity that was once a refrigerator, all of which were stocked with cans of food, packets of crisps, prep bars and various bottles of drink.

As she stepped inside she noticed the floor was plushy and soft, and a glance down showed it to be lined with old mattresses and towels. She tested the springiness with a little bounce before proceeding further into the room, picking up a can of food off the shelf to examine.

She almost didn't believe it was all real.

Fang shut the door behind them, and the lights flickered off for a few seconds, until he flipped a switch next to the door. Once lit, they illuminated the pair with a dull orange glow. Max placed the can back down on the storage rack and stared up at the ceiling, studying the racks and racks of food that had been accumulated here over the years.

Flopping down on the floor, Fang almost knocked her off balance. She looked back down at him for a few seconds before flopping down herself, settling into the springy but definitely comfortable cushion of the old mattresses. Reaching over, Fang pulled a bottle of water off of the shelf next to him, cracked the bottle to take a swig, before offering it to his visitor.

She took it gladly and downed most of the bottle in one go. Max hadn't realised how thirsty she was until the first drop of sweet water touched her tongue, and then she couldn't stop herself. The liquid tasted a little stale, possibly a little stagnant, but it was much better than the aftertaste of vomit that was currently flooding her taste buds. With a sigh she placed the empty bottle on the mattress next to her, still holding it's neck, before taking a glance at Fang.

He was staring at her, and it was a little unnerving. His eyes were such a dark brown in any other light they could have been mistaken for black. His deep brown, obviously home cut, shaggy hair hung about his ears, touching his shoulders at the back where he couldn't reach well. Max frowned at the scars and cuts that crisscrossed his arms. How long this Fang had lived down in Rapture? Had he been alone the whole time, or did he have friends somewhere in the complex, or dead?

Max shuddered. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer to one of those questions.

"If you're cold, I have blankets." A slightly bemused Fang said quietly, still holding the girl's gaze as her eyes floated over his cuts and grazes. She seemed to be off in her own thoughts, and it took a few seconds for what he said to register, for she suddenly looked directly back into his eyes before shaking her head defiantly.

He shrugged and repositioned himself on the mattress, grabbing a towel and bundling it up to use as a pillow. Beside him, Max still sat fairly upright as she screwed the cap on the empty bottle and placed it down next to her. As hard as she tried, and as much as she'd been through before, she could not settle. Every muscle in her body was still primed for flight or fight.

"You need to sleep," the voice made her jump very slightly, but a slight turn of the head showed Fang holding out a towel to her. She took it hesitantly and began to bundle it into a mildly pillow-like shape. Her hands were still shaking, adrenaline still pumped through her system, and though any noises that penetrated the fridge's steel walls felt like a long way away, they still put her on edge.

Flashing Fang what she thought was a reassuring smile, she turned her back on her new friend and settled into the pillow, one hand underneath it and the other curled to her chest. She didn't close her eyes but instead stared at the wall opposite her, her mind contemplating everything that had happened to her in such a short space of time.

She wanted to be back at the School again, just for a second, before deciding at least here she had company.

It was with that thought that a thin blanket was thrown over her. This time, Max didn't really jump, but she did look over her shoulder to see her companion pulling the bottom of the material over her feet and smoothing it against her side. When she caught his eyes a few seconds later, he sent her a smile that she couldn't resist mimicking, the most adorable half smile that made the battered boy's face shine, before laying her head back down again.

She felt him begin to stroke the back of her head, running his hand from between her ears all the way down to the top of her neck, then starting the motion again. It was slow and delicate, and Max could feel her muscles relaxing and her heart rate slowing down.

When he started humming a song she was sure she recognised, she crinkled her eyebrows just a little, but didn't have time to contemplate where she had heard it before she was fast asleep on the refrigerator floor. Fang kept stroking the back of her head for a few minutes afterwards, still humming to make sure she was definitely asleep, before rolling back to his original position and resting his head back on his towel.

The song was one Jeb used to hum to him when he couldn't sleep after an experiment. As much as Fang had hated that man and even tried to ignore him, he had always tried at least to get him the best care, the best food and the best breaks from experiments. Fang took a quick glance over his shoulder at Max's sleeping form, watching the blanket rise and fall with every breath.

Humming that song had soothed her so well. Now he was certain she was from The School too.


	12. Cornered

**Well, would you look at that! ****It's a five page update! =D**

**Though Yahoo is being spazzy and wont let me get to my emails at the moment, about half of them were directed to my other email account (because I changed it halfway through last week, lol) and so I have one I can reply to, since they were not logged in when they left their review.**

**Millie-Fan: I'm flattered by the name XD And yes, I should be back to a semi regular updating schedule now 2010 has finally finished and I have my bunnies back again. Here is a piece of overlap backstory for you, because you reviewed ;D**

**I also recall someone asking me if I will be updating any of my other fics, and I will say now that I am. Fires of Hell and Secrets and Sacrifices have both had at least one update since I returned from the seeming dead, and I promise they will get more, once my bunnies get off this sudden violent streak thats leading to updates here.**

**Please do review, I love hearing from you 3 Donations of carrot cake for said bunnies are much obliged (they're eating me out of house and home!) and I hope you enjoy the long update.**

**WARNINGS: Violence, swears and more violence. YAY.**

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**Chapter 12 - Cornered**

It wasn't usually allowed for a subject to walk around the hallways of The School without handcuffs and a large Eraser guard force, but Max was special. The first and (according to Jeb) most important of her hybrid kind, Maximum Ride was given more leeway than most of the other experiments combined.

Thanks to Jeb, that was, who doted on her.

Now nine year old Max the Human-Avian Hybrid walked through the halls of the only place she'd ever called home, her hand in that of the only scientist she trusted, heading for yet another experiment to test her abilities as a recombinant life form.

It had soon become obvious to Max's 'carers', a bunch of scientists who took bloods and other measurements periodically throughout the day, that she was much easier to control when Jeb was around. In fact, she treated him like a Father figure, and up to this point had shown no signs of rebelling against his seeming infinite wisdom on the tests she had to carry out.

As they walked through the halls, the nervous brunette kept glancing behind them, aware of the Eraser patrol that were keeping their distance beyond the pair's sight. Not only did they smell rank, they were loud and stupid, and their scuffling, banging and moronic laughter kept giving their positions away as she and Jeb made their way through the complex.

_They'll be easy to outsmart when I escape_, Max thought, looking up at Jeb instead._ You might not be though…_

Playing the obedient child was a piece of cake, Max had discovered, and in a strange way enjoyed twisting Jeb into believing if he asked her to jump from a steep cliff with her wings taped to her back, she would do it. She loved him, she really did, for all that he did for her, but something inside told her this was not how life was supposed to be.

She would fly outside this place one day. Whether Jeb wanted her to or not.

Upon turning the next corner, Jeb stopped dead, and Max followed suite almost instantly not because he did, but because of what was ahead of them. She wasn't really sure what to think of the situation, and barely heard when Jeb dropped her hand and told her "Wait there, Max." before running over to the ruckus himself to try and help out.

There were at least five Erasers and two scientists present, but the cause of all the fuss seemed to be a boy not much shorter than the fully grown men in question. He had long, black hair that hung over his face and reached his shoulders, and deep brown eyes that could easily have been mistaken for black.

He continued to struggle against the Erasers trying to jam him through a doorway. Max was sure he shouted Jeb's name before he was smacked around the face by an Eraser mitt. Blood dripping from the fresh gash to his forehead, he lifted his head just enough to catch her eyes, studying her, before he was turned away from the hallway and pushed through the lab doors.

That was when Max saw them - the tips of two midnight black wings poking out of his lab shirt.

The girl's heart skipped a beat. She had been told of the other Avian Hybrids in the School for sure, but never seen one before. Until now they had seemed like a myth, but there one was, alive and well, just like her. She was still startled into disbelief when Jeb returned to her, his usually calm face flustered and red with annoyance. He took Max's hand sharply and marched her to her next experiment room, ignoring her questions the whole way there.

Later, he told her that the boy she had seen was indeed the second successful Human-Avian Hybrid, but he had not been as successful as they hoped. Though he was born from the same round of genetic tests as Max was, he had failed to exhibit any kind of leadership skills, preferred not to answer questions and had a habit of beating the shit out of anyone who tried to take bloods.

Nine years of hassle had been enough - HAH002-F had been decommissioned. He was gone.

oOo

A loud bang woke Max from her slumber, and she sat up so quickly her vision went fuzzy. When her eyes cleared, she saw Fang had already pulled himself to his feet and slipped the gun into his waistband, leaving an empty box labelled 'ammo' in his own scrawl-writing empty on the mattress. Frantically, she looked about for her pole before realising she had left it outside when she wriggled through the window the day before.

She felt like such a moron right then.

Another load bang on the freezer door and Max was on her feet. She picked up the only weapon she could find, an industrial size can opener once used to open massive cans in the café itself, and advanced with Fang slowly towards the door.

_So much for resting_, Max thought as he reached for the handle painfully slowly. Her body had been awake for an entire minute and it was already hotwired with adrenaline again, her heart rate through the roof and beating through her chest phenomenally loudly. She tensed all of her muscles, ready to whoop some major ass, as Fang pulled down the handle and swung the door open, one hand on his gun.

There was no one there. The restaurant was empty.

Fang didn't like this. Not one bit. If a Splicer had been banging on the fridge, it was intelligent enough to know they were within it's walls. Not only that, it's sudden disappearance didn't bode well for him or his new companion - the only time they ever abandoned killing an ADAM collector was when there was major danger, and there was none of that around, as far as he knew.

He swallowed hard and took a step out of the door, all to aware he was walking into an ambush.

While he knew Max would be right behind him, he was not used to have to protect more than himself at any one time. He was fast, that was for sure, but was Max? He couldn't bring himself to abandon her in the middle of a death-trap and sprint for it, even if that's what he would have done just days before. A cautionary glance over his shoulder showed Max to be sporting a rather hefty looking tin opener, and he couldn't help but smile at her resourcefulness.

The smile was wiped off his face as another load bang came from above their heads, and both teens looked up simultaneously to see a glass light fitting dropping towards their heads. A black figure crawled away from the plummeting fitting, muttering in a high pitched tone to itself as the Spider Splicer fled the scene of the crime. Both of them acted on instinct - Fang rolled left, Max rolled right - and the light hit the ground with a deafening crash rather than cracking one of their skulls.

Refreshed and rejuvenated, Max was the first to get back to her feet. Her first response was to look over the broken light at Fang, but to her relief he seemed to be unhurt, though his drawn gun had been thrown across the room in his drop and roll. He was, however, already scrambling to his feet to retrieve it when her attention was once again occupied.

To her surprise, when she turned back forwards, she was almost nose to nose with the splicer that had dropped the lamp on them. The deformed man, or woman, she couldn't really tell, was carrying two hook-like projectiles in its hands. There were many more attached to it's back and sides, and Max might have been sick again if she'd noticed the tips were actually wedged in it's flesh, but she didn't.

It was staring at her, and she couldn't look away from it's amber tinged eyes.

"Walker of earth and ground joins us in the sea," the creature hissed through it's few teeth, the front two apparently absent without leave. It's tongue pocked through this gap as it spoke, creating a sound almost like a snake hiss on the end of some words. "Into the fire and death and darkness between, you have come. And never shall you be free!"

The excitement in the creature's last words kicked Max's senses back into gear. Her body finally responding to her urge to run, she just managed to jump backwards as a hook was thrust into the space her belly had been just moments before. It took another two slashes at it's foe, both of which she dodged with ease, before crying out in frustration and launching itself once more at the ceiling.

That was Max's cue to run, because then hooks started flying everywhere.

On the other side of the room, Fang had managed to get a hand on his gun and was trying to aim it at the creature. As usual, however, he was having trouble aiming at a moving target, and eventually shoved the gun back down his waistband and sprinted over to his threatened companion, who was heading for the open door.

_Wait_, he thought as Max ran thought the doorframe, safely away from the hooks that imbedded in the walls behind her. _I didn't open that door, we both came through the window._

He had a terrible sensation in his stomach that Max had just run straight into the trap, yet there was no other way to go. _The problem with using this as a hideout, _he remembered his old Rapture Guide telling him time and time again, _is that if they find you, you are as good as dead._

Fang shot out of the open doorway and screeched to a halt almost instantly, ending up next to Max who was obviously way out of her comfort zone. The town centre the restaurant opened out onto was almost filled to the brim with Primitive Splicers, all of whom seemed to salivate that little bit more when fresh meat ran into their hoard. An odd blue light flitted across their irises every few seconds, and Fang flinched.

They were hypnotised. This wasn't going to end well.

Frantically, he began to search for an exit. The nearest one was the way they came from. Normally, backtracking was something Fang avoided, but right now it seemed like a brilliant idea, since there was only three Splicers between them and the door in appose to the ten that blocked every other exit. Taking a glance sideways, he caught Max's eye, nodding discretely towards the door in the hope she'd understand. She gave him a curt nod and held onto her can opener tighter, letting her gaze pass over the mass of creatures she was sure were gunning to strip them clear of flesh.

"ATTACK!"

The order came from the door behind them, and Fang was silently relieved that there was only one actually intelligent splicer present at this gathering. With a single, swift movement he grabbed the tin opener from Max's hands and hurled it behind him without even looking. It stuck the spider clear in the face and knocked it out cold.

Max didn't have time to wonder why he wasn't that fluid or accurate with a gun before a roar spread through the monster hoard, and suddenly thirty salivating, excitable Splicers were charging for them across the town centre on all fours. Without even thinking she grabbed the gun from her partner's waistband, pivoted on her heel and aimed it at a splicer blocking their easiest exit.

**Bang**. The splicer closest to her fell to the ground, a bullet clean through the middle of it's head. The sound of a gunshot caused almost all of the splicers to rethink their charge, halting if only for a second on the spot as the sound of death ran in their ears.

This was, thankfully, enough time for Fang to regain his industrial can opener, and he was back in the game.

He span on the spot from picking it up, swinging the heavy metal base into the cheek of one of the splicers daring enough to ignore the shot. Most of the other splicers now had their meddle back and were charging once more, but Fang felt the precious seconds required to jam the metal pole attached to his can opener through the eye of the downed splicer, just in case he got any Dracula-related revival ideas.

This seemed, however, not to be such a bad idea. Though a splicer got a grip on the boy's arm he didn't have time to sink his fangs into his flesh before the teenager had jammed the pole through the creature's already deteriorating lower jaw. He then flung his pole around in a complete circle and threw the body at the group currently advancing on his position.

The mind-controller out cold, they seemed all to happy to eat their comrade instead of taking on the fighting-fit meat-bag.

**Bang. S**plicer number two that had been blocking their exit fell to the floor with a splattered eye, his oozing head landing on Max's feet. She jumped back a few steps in disgust and aimed her gun once more, the only splicer still blocking their exit in her sights. This one seemed to have decided this was a fight it wouldn't win and was backing away, but Max wasn't ready to give it a chance to change it's mind.

What looked like a metal pole flew past her head, and the can opened lodged itself in the side of the splicer's skull that was inches away from ripping Max's ear off. With a confused murmur and a twitch of the limbs it fell to the ground lifeless. Fang was pulling the item from it's corpse as Max's last shot rang out in the overcrowded hall.

"Run!" Fang yelled, not giving Max time to think about what he'd said, grabbing her hand and pulling her though the now unguarded door. Behind them the snarls and grunts of Primitive Splicers dashing through the halls after them had Max looking back again and again, but she didn't stop running.

Why was it she seemed to spend her whole life running?

Pretty soon they broke into the room bordered with ornate balconies, the ceiling so high up you could barely make out the ceiling someone had taken the time to etch cherubs and Gods into. Fang skidded to a halt and Max did so to, the scenario reminding her of the past, the first and only time she had seen a bird kid like herself.

Before them, the room was full of Primitive and Zombie splicers feasting on the flesh of both the splicers Max had seen die there and a load more that had been scattered about the floor. Upon the arrival of fresh meat rather than old, stagnant flesh, most of the Primitive splicers turned their noses to the air and followed the new scent to the teens now standing a few feet from the doorway.

Behind them, the growls and grunts of the other splicers were getting louder and clearer, and Max turned back anxiously, eyes scanning the dull corridor they had just retreated down. She had forgotten amongst the fear of death that she could fly, and was now exceedingly worried she was about to die.

Fang's eyes were cemented to the front as the nearest splicer or two abandoned their rotting corpse and began to lick their pale yellow lips at the idea of fresh meat, jumping towards the pair in an awkward, sideways gait.

Despite all this, Fang smirked. He loved being underestimated. After all, it was much better than being overestimated, since that almost always led to certain death. He watched the creatures advance calmly, tucking the heavy can opener into his belt for safe keeping. Beside him, Max took a few weary steps backwards, holding her gun out at the screeching advancing down the hallway.

She felt something grab her arm, to which she flipped her head round almost instantly, but it was only Fang. "Do you trust me?" He whispered, not blinking as he waited for her answer. All of a sudden his unreadable face was sharp and serious, though his jaw was not as sense as it should have been in such a hopeless situation. Max looked about them, at the splicers advancing and the cries coming from the hall behind them, before meeting his gaze again.

She had no other choice. "Yes," she breathed, and Fang smirked.

A quick flick of the wrist and Max in front of him, his arms securely around her waist. An instant later and the closest splicer leapt forwards, clawless fingers curled like a pouncing tiger and brown teeth dripping with saliva.

But it wasn't quick enough. At the same time Fang whipped out a pair of midnight black wings and already thrown himself and Max into the air, his massive wingspan giving a single flap as the splicer came in grasping distance of the pair. In surprise, Max had starting gripping the boy's arms fiercely around her waist, which seemed to be a good decision when they were jolted back down by the splicer catching Fang's shoe.

The creature let out a roar of achievement, but it's moment of glory was short lived. Fang wasted no time in kicking the creature in the face, releasing his foot and allowing them to once again climb into the air and up the wall of balconies.

He didn't stop before they reached the highest one, the smallest balcony with just one door opening out onto it. Manoeuvring to keep him wings from hitting the walls or the ceiling to set Max down was quite a challenge, but after three tries he managed to get her legs over the side of the balcony, letting go when she had shuffled ran enough onto the rail not to fall.

Finally, once she had shuffled off of the metal rail, he tucked his wings in and let himself fall about half a foot, grabbing onto the railing with both hands with a grunt, for his wingspan was too great to allow him to land so close to the domed roof. After a few seconds recovery he began hauling himself up, to which max was happy to help by grabbing his wrist and giving his ridiculously light frame a good pull.

Once he was over the edge of the balcony, both teens paused, their hearts still racing and their breathing elevated, to peer over the balcony back to the trap below. The team of splicers from the town square had made it into the balcony room, and now they seemed to have forgotten about their previous target and were quite happily massacring each other for the privilege of hunting in that area. Max let out a sigh of relief and fell back from the edge, once again counting her blessings for what felt like the hundredth time since she'd woken up in this horrible place.

Behind her, Fang's eyes lingered on the fight below, watching the previously human creatures pulling limbs off of their neighbours, and shook his head silently. This is why he only had a single plasmid - he didn't want to end up a wild animal.

"You have wings, and you didn't tell me?" He looked up at the wall ahead of him, the paint dulled and grimy, the skirting board almost completely devoid of pleasant colour, before turning to face his questioner. What he saw was rather amusing however, and he couldn't help but smirk.

Here was Max, a girl that had seen more death, blood and grime in one day than she had ever imagined possible, staring at him with a scowl on her face. She had her arms folded across her now tattered test subject shirt, and was glaring at him so hard if it were possible, his face would have melted clean off by now.

Casually, Fang shrugged, turning to face her. "It wasn't relevant until now," he stated cooly, looking the girl in the eyes, hoping the direct contact would soften her glare. It didn't, and his smile grew a little wider at her perseverance. "I'm sure you have something to tell me too?"

At that, Max's expression did drop, and her arms fell down to her waist, even if they were still folded. For a few seconds she seemed to be away in her own world, and then she suddenly clicked back into gear and she frowned once more, though less intimidating this time.

"What gives you that idea?" She queried. Fang started walking towards her, but she stood her ground until he was just inches from her face. It was snow apparent how much taller than her he was - at 5'8" she was very tall for her age, but Fang overshadowed her by at least five inches as he reached forwards and pulled at the hem of her shirt.

"Two words," he stated, dropping the material back to her skin, never breaking eye contact. "The School."

It was blindingly obvious to Max that he had to come from some kind of research facility, but hearing her home's name send a cold shiver down her spine, and her body spasmed just slightly while she tried to hold his gaze.

She remembered back to her days following Jeb around the facility, of what she had seen again in her dream that night. Her eyes widened at what should have been blatantly obvious as soon as she'd seen his wings, and Fang took a few steps back to give her some space, which she dutifully took advantage of to point at him.

"I saw you in the hallway," she stated in an almost unbelieving tone. "When I was nine, and Jeb was leading me to a flight test." Fang nodded in confirmation, having recognised the girl from the hallway in Max as soon as he had set eyes on her. As a deal sealer, he lifted the bangs that were trying to poke him in the eye, revealing the silvered scar an eraser had left on him that day.

Max almost couldn't believe it, her finger still out as she took that bit of information in. He had been decommissioned four years ago, yet here he was, still alive and well even though he had been dumped in this underwater cess pit. She was still processing it when he held out his hand to her, a small smirk on his face.

"Specimen HAH002-F," he stated formally, looking down at his outstretched hand then back into her eyes. "Though I prefer Fang. May I welcome you to the Mutant Graveyard?"

After a few seconds, Max took his hand in her own and gave it a single, firm shake while she held his gaze. "Specimen HAH001-M, and may I say you're doing a fine job of showing me around. But please," she added with a smirk of her own, withdrawing her hand once more. "Everyone calls me Max."


	13. People and Plasmids

**So, here's an update for you. I've had 5 exams in the last 10 days, so as you can tell, I have been rather busy. v.v After that, I'm going to be unwell for a while, so updates will probably be sporadic. I hope you enjoy this one though.**

**People and Plasmids.**

Walking behind her partner, Max noticed that, even though Fang had supposedly lived here for four years, he still had an edge about his demeanor. He walked almost on his tip toes, even when walking at high speed, and his head continuously flicked to one side or the other, or back at her, as they made their way through the matrix of corridors known as Rapture.

Now without a secure hiding place and having picked up no food or water on their rush out of the fridge, she and Fang were in trouble. It didn't take a genius to look around the place and realize that food was going to be in short supply on the travel to who-knew-where. Vending machines had the glass shattered or the metal from the front torn off, discarded in their side after their contents had been pilfered, the thick layer of dust inside an indicator of how long ago it occurred.

Leading her on, food and shelter was the main priority playing across Fang's mind. As a bird kid he tended to have to eat more than your average human being, and now he had Max to feed as well. It would be too dangerous to return to his stockpile in the old fridge for weeks, if not months, and the next store was a good week's trek away.

That was without splicer interference.

He took another glance over his shoulder at Max, making sure she was still there, before doing another quick scan of the room. Once and community centre, all of the vending machines he had hoped to scavenge food from were emptied and broken, an old, massive television had a chair leg through it's screen and the desk at the far end of the room had been burned to smithereens, along with most of the other furniture.

A sharp gaze over the room revealed there was nothing worth rummaging for. Anything edible would have been burned or spoiled by the fire, and there were no weapons to be gained from burned wood. Instead he continued to stride through the room with Max tailing behind him, glad she could keep up with his stride.

It was near the door that Max stopped in her tracks to glance back over at the desk. The wooden frame was burned black and she had no idea how it still stood when it looked so much like charcoal, but she was sure there was something on the frail desk.

She shifted her weight backwards, and the item glinted in the dull green hue of the lighting as she tilted backwards. Whatever it was, it was almost completely coated in dust. A glance through the door showed that Fang had already turned the corner of the tunnel into the next room. Convinced he would look back soon and notice she was missing, Max turned on her heel and strode through the debris to the desk.

As she got closer, the small bottle was much easier to see against the grey wall and the thick coating of dust. It was made of glass, round bottomed and hexagonal that came up smoothly into a narrow spout. She picked up the object and wiped the dust off with her arm, feeling an odd, warming sensation emanating from it.

The liquid inside was bright red. There was no label on the bottle.

Max stared at the bottle stupidly for a few minutes, feeling the warmth seep into her fingers and fill her body. Something about this stuff made her want to keep it – a voice deep inside her told her to wrap her fingers tightly around the bottle and keep it safe. It told her she should try and find more of them, collect them.

The voice was so compelling. Until it's spell was broken by a yell from the next room. Max almost dropped the bottle in surprise, swimming around just in time to hear the thud of a body hitting the wall. A millisecond of hesitation and she was sprinting towards the sound, the room Fang had walked into alone, with the bottle tightly gripped in her left hand.

Though it barely took ten seconds to reach the next room, it felt like an eternity to the worried teenager. She skidded to a halt in the doorway with her hand already on the gun Fang had let her keep, her pulse racing and adrenaline flooding her system…to be faced with a young girl.

The girl was rags and bone, her dark mocha skin and bedraggled clothes hanging off her skeletal frame. Her brown eyes were sunken and tired, and her dark, frizzy hair hung in limp ringlets bout her shoulders. She seemed to stare up at Max sadly, begging for her to help her, to make her life better.

Max's hand fell from the gun, and her face creased into confusion as she quickly scanned the room for Fang. She spotted him on the far side of the room hauling himself to his feet, the metal bar usually tucked into his belt on the floor a few feet away from him. She glanced back at the young girl confusion still on her face, but it melted instantly.

The girl Max had pegged as a harmless little girl had moved into a fighting position very similar to Max's own. Her left leg was placed back and her front one forwards, insinuating she was right handed, her body weight resting on her dominant leg. The only major difference was she had an arm outstretched in the teenager's direction and, to both Max's amazement and fear, above the girls head levitated a broken vending machine.

For a while, time seemed to stand still. Intuitively, Max took a step back towards the doorway, her eyes now glued on the hefty object floating like a feather above the mocha girl's head. It rotated there slowly, as if wafted by a gentle breeze, glass falling from its broken cover and landing in the young girl's hair.

Then time kicked back into gear. With a flick of the wrist the vending machine took a flying leap towards Max and began to fall, showering glass in its wake as it blocked the dark girl from view. As soon as it began to move, Max had started taking evasive action.

Rather than sprint back the way she came she decided to run towards Fang instead, charging left at high speed. With a small leap of her own she just managed to avoid being smashed back down the corridor against her will, instead landing on her stomach a few feet from the open tunnel and instinctively covering her head with her free arm.

The action was wasted, however. No glass or metal tried to rain down on her head. After a few seconds of staring at the back of her eyelids, Max span on her back to stare at the wreckage just visible in the mouth of the tunnel. She felt two large hands tuck themselves under her arms and pull her to her feet, though the felt like jelly as she tried to balance.

Behind her, Fang stared at exit furthest from them. The mocha girl had fled as soon as she had thrown the vending machine, before Fang would find his bearings again. Having been hurled across the room by telekinesis he had hit the wall much harder than he would if he had been physically thrown, and as such was still a little worse for wear.

There would be a nice bruise on the back of his head for weeks to come.

"Ok," Max finally broke the silence, her eyes still glued to the smashed machine that was almost her gravestone. "So, what the fuck just happened?"

Fang rubbed the back of his head tentatively. "She has a telekinesis plasmid," he stated simply, to which Max turned to face him, confusion on her face. He paused for a second to feel the growling lump on his skull, feeling his arms and back complain about standing up. "Like my electricity, but she can move things with her mind."

While Max pondered this information, Fang continued to stare at the splicer's escape route. It was possible she had been an ambush by the same organisation who attacked them in the fridge, but in that mindset the encounter made no sense. If she had meant to kill them, she could have done with ease, even after missing Max with the vending machine. Instead, she had done a runner.

He smiled to himself. She was a rogue, just like him.

"Hey," he glanced down at his partner, who was looking at his smirk with the confusion that seemed to have become her permanent facial expression. "If she ran away, does that mean she's like us? Just stuck here going crazy?"

Exactly what he thought, and he would have said that, but he simply shrugged when he noticed what max was holding. In her hand was a bottle, the base of which was about the size of his palm, filled with a bright red liquid. He took her wrist and held it up before him, so he could look into the swirling liquid more closely.

He could feel the warmth emanating from the glass, gently heating his face. "Where did you find this?" he asked softly, letting go of her wrist. She drew her arm into her chest and rested the bottom of the hexagonal bottle on her right palm, looking into the oddly luminous fluid encased within the glass, staring at it as if hypnotised.

"On the burned out table," she replied just as softly, enjoying the warmth as it spread through her hands and chest. After a few minutes of silence, her eyes closed, she finally looked back up at him. "It was buried under dust and stuff. Do you know what it is?"

Fang nodded once, holding her eyes. "That's Incinerate. It's a fire plasmid."


	14. Tricky Decisions

**Welcome to Chapter 14. Wasn't that wait short? Arent you amazed?**

**Next chapter is written, because I have had some spare time lately. Enjoy, and thank you all for the reviews! In answer to the question I received, this chapter should clear that up for you. If not, prod me, eh?**

**Tricky Decisions**

"It would be much better protection than a gun," The dark-haired bid kid pointed out to his companion as they trekked through the complex of Rapture, still seeking for somewhere to rest and eat. Though he had no idea how long they had been walking, it felt like days, and his stomach was complaining the stale prep bar he had found possibly twelve hours ago had been burned out.

Ahead of him, Max said nothing in reply, but it was obvious by her sudden pick up in pace that she wasn't interested in discussing his idea. She even refused to hold the glass jar, thrusting its warmth into Fang's hands before striding off ahead of him, claiming it was time she took the lead.

With a soft sigh, Fang picked up his own pace, cradling the hexagonal glass bottle to his chest. He had explained to Max that Incinerate was like all the other plasmids – it allowed a certain ability after it was incorporated into her DNA – to which she cringed slightly, but she completely disregarded it as an option when he explained _how_ it got into her genome.

He shuddered at the memory of gaining his own electricity. He wasn't a fan of needles either.

The pair had decided it would be best to leave the wild telekinesis wielder to her own devices and taken one of the other exits out of the previous room. It seemed to have been a good choice as they had yet to see another splicer on their travels. This absence of the enemy made Fang rather anxious, maybe even more so then he had been before they met the mocha girl, and he found himself constantly checking every shadow for an enemy.

When they power-walked into the next room, Fang froze in the doorway, overcome with a sense of recognition. It had been a long time since he had been in this sector of Rapture. It seemed it had been a long time since anyone had been here, as almost all the turned over furniture were still in the same places they had been all those years ago.

This was the room he had woken up in.

His mind clouded with images of long ago. Waking to a banging headache and the sensation of his muscles being replaced with lead, a Fang of nine had opened his eyes to Rapture for the first time. He was disoriented, lethargic, and found that when he tried to haul himself to his feet, his muscles refused to cooperate.

Not until a few days after this occurrence did Fang realise how lucky he was that day. He was too tired and still too incapacitated by the sleeping drug in his system to protect himself from what was about to come his way. As the images of his would-be assassins entering the room, their jowls dripping with saliva, played before present-day Fang's eyes, he stared at the wall opposite him impassively.

If his to-be partner hadn't been right behind them, he would have been dead.

Though he felt bad about it, the boy who followed his to-be assassins into the room was best described by the word 'creature'. Though he was younger than Fang, at least half his age, the boy already had a stature of seven feet, and the skin on his body seemed to be permanently stretched out of proportion. His face looked like he had been hit by a truck for this very reason, and from the shoulders down he was covered in thick white hair.

Unable to perform any functions other than breathe, young Fang watched as what he thought was his worst nightmare tore the two hungry splicers to shreds with his claws and teeth. The plasmids they tried to use on him barely made him flinch as he swatted them away like annoying flies, before turning his attention on Fang.

The young bird boy was terrified, but he could barely move the muscles on his face, so he didn't have to try and hide it. Thankfully, the odd boy was on his side, and instead of decorating the room with the lad's innards, the creature carried him to a nearby safe-house to rest and get over his tranquiliser.

Until he died two years later, the boy was Fang's tutor in Rapture. The boy's name swept across his mind.

"Ari," he whispered, his gaze still unfocused on the wall opposite. On the other side of the room, already set to walk into the next corridor, Max span on her heel, raising an eyebrow at her partner, but his attention refused to waiver from the wall to meet her gaze.

"What did you say?"

Pulled back into reality, Fang swung his head around to meet her gaze a little too quickly, before shrugging his shoulders. "Nothing," he replied absently, looking about the room as if it searching for a particular landmark. "I just remembered where there's a safe house, though."

Max crossed her arms over her chest, sending the teenager a quizzical look, but after a few seconds of it being ignored she just shrugged her shoulders and motioned to him with her hands. "Lead on, Messiah, for I shall do nought but follow."

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Fang instead sent his acquaintance a smug smirk before taking a leap and throwing out his wings in one swift movement. A single beat in the tiny room and he was already at the ceiling, pulling at an almost invisible catch in the perfectly etched craftsmanship. A tiny hatch opened like a loft door. Fang folded his wings and allowed himself to fall a few inches, catching the edge of the hatch opening with his fingers and hauling himself inside.

Max didn't really have anything to say. Instead, she threw out her own wings and followed him. Without his practice and his extra few inches of wingspan, it took her a few extra beats to get high enough to reach the hatch. She misjudged the height of the ceiling and grazed a few feathers on a cherub engraved into it before allowing herself to drop and catch the edge of the hatch.

A gentleman at heart, Fang helped her inside.

The space was narrow and dark, but it had just enough room to allow Max to sit upright under the thick glass roof. Above them the sea flowed, filled with fish and greenery that had dislodged from the ocean floor. Cables had been tucked behind metal hooks that were inserted at intervals along the glasswork frame, holding them safely out of reach.

"A maintenance tunnel," Fang answered her question before it even formed in her mind. He motioned to the many cables held to the wall by rusty hooks both beside them and over their head. "The electricity has to come from somewhere."

He himself was too tall to sit up in the tunnel. Instead he slouched until the top of his head rested on the cool glass, planning to lay down as soon as they had a moment so his neck didn't seize up. He pulled the hatch shut as Max studied the ocean above them, in awe of the dull green and black fish that were so well camouflaged against the murky ocean.

She considered asking him how he knew the tunnels were there, but she didn't bother. Assuming he had been here all those years, and he seemed to have rewired a fridge to act as a bunker rather than a frostbite trap, she decided it was viable that be knew where the electrics were as well.

Slouching against the glass, Fang set the plasmid down in front of him. The liquid seemed to emanate a little of its own light in the darkness of the tunnel, shrouding them in a hue that Fang thought a sunset would look like. The reddy-orange glow pulled Max's attention from the deep sea back to the bottle she was assured was filled with a fire plasmid, and she shuddered at the thought of a needle penetrating her skin.

If there was one thing they knew how to do in The School, it was take blood samples. Up to five were taken from experiments daily to analyse glucose, blood cell and immune cell levels, as well as the volume of hormone in their system after exercise, fear or stress. Both bird kids had enough blood tests and needles to last them a lifetime in the school.

So why had Fang knowingly stuck one in his arm?

Unwittingly, Fang watched the young teen stare into the glass, as if entranced by the liquid's dance. He knew by her expression she was debating exactly what he had been when given the opportunity to gain the ability of a plasmid; to willingly inject herself with the substance for greater protection, or to refuse due to her fears enforced by the school.

Finally, he moved, reaching just around the corner to a well-forgotten stash of chips and prep bars. Throwing one of each to Max and hoping they wouldn't be too spoiled, Fang grabbed one each of his own and ripped the packet of chips open, tipping most of the packet into his mouth at once. Opposite him, Max tore open the prep bar and ate half of it in a single mouthful, enjoying the sensation of food on her tongue.

He was the first to swallow. "When my partner first offered me a plasmid, I refused too." He said simply, examining what was left in his chip packet to avoid looking his companion in the eyes. "The idea of having electricity freaked me out on its own, let alone the fact I needed to inject…"

He trailed off, obviously still not comfortable talking about it. He tipped the rest of the chip packet into his mouth and crunched noisily, fiddling with the wrapper on his prep bar, masterfully avoiding Max's persistent gaze. After half a minute he swallowed and began to open the prep bar like a banana, still keeping his eyes down.

"What I mean," he continued carefully, "is that I get you aren't comfortable with…needles. We came from the same place, after all." He finally glanced up to catch Max's expression, which was one of concentration. "They're a trump card if a splicer takes your weapon. They won't know you have it until you fire. But," he added a little more strongly, taking a bite of his prep bar. "Tha's up to yoo."

Her legs crossed beneath her and her hands folded in her lap, Max stared at the glowing bottle before her. Hunger forgotten, she creased her brows as she glared at the bottle, running scenarios and options over her brain again ad again, but she had to admit that Fang was right. Having the ability to throw fire would be an indispensable tool, especially in a tight spot.

Looking up at Fang, she held her left arm out to him, wrist side up. "Let's get it over with."


	15. Max's First Plasmid

**Oh look. It's an update.**

**Unfortunately the only exciting thing happens right at the end of this chapter. It's kind of a thriller I guess. But a neccessary one.**

**Enjoy.**

**Chapter 14**

Waiting in the darkness of the maintenance tunnel, Max could feel her nerves fraying. She had no idea how much safer she felt with Fang around until he up and left. Now, on her own with no idea if he would ever come back from the hellhole below them, she was frightened. Every muscle in her body was rigged for flight at the slightest noise and she couldn't settle.

"Get some sleep while I'm gone," Fang had said. Fat chance of that happening,

Taking a deep breath Max laid her head on the cool metal below her, letting it pull the heat from her skin, hoping it would calm her down. She closed her eyes and tried to force herself to sleep, but the harder she tried, the more awake she felt. Eventually she gave up and rolled onto her back, staring through the thick glass into the almost black ocean above her.

Her new partner had gone to collect fresh supplies. Apparently having your first Plasmid injection was both painful and disabling. Not that she didn't want the injection enough as it was, he had to add those little nuggets of amazing to the information. So before he would give her the jab he wanted to collect supplies, leaving her alone knowing she would be able to crack some skulls if she needed to rather than as a vegetable on the floor, just waiting to be eaten.

Time passed ever so slowly, and Max began to worry that he would never come back. The last ambush they had encountered would have finished him off if Fang had been in the freezer on his own, as well as bumped Max off if she'd tried to deal with it alone. Now he was out alone down there again, where there were people trying to actively trap and kill him, and it seemed like days since he'd left.

She was just beginning to relax when there was a noise below, and all her muscles wired themselves tight again. Pushing herself into a semi-upright position, Max dared to peek down the maintenance hatch, hoping to see Fang and not a crazy Splicer ready to climb the walls and drink her blood.

Luckily for her it was the former. After doing a quick scan of his surroundings, making sure no splicers were watching him, Fang threw out his wings and launched himself up to the maintenance hatch, which Max opened fully to allow him faster access. As soon as he was safely inside the hatch was closed and locked, and Max let out a sigh of relief.

Fang dropped a bag in the shaft with a soft thud. "Got some supplies from an old stash," he said quietly, shuffling down to a comfortable level against the cool glass. Once there he pushed the bag towards his partner, motioning for her to take something. "The chips might be a bit soggy, but the bars and such seem to be fine."

He watched her in the dim light as she delved into the bag, unwrapped a prep bar and bit a large chunk off the end, savouring the taste of mildly fresh food on her palette. Compared to the food in Rapture, the mush and bread they had been fed at The School was gourmet. The taste of soggy chips almost made him miss the place.

Then he'd remember the rest of his life in The School, and all illusions would be lost.

It was a few seconds before he noticed the warm glow of the Incinerate plasmid was missing. A quick scan of the maintenance shaft proved fruitless until he noticed the thin blanket he'd left Max to sleep on was thrown over the bottle a few feet from her. He raised an eyebrow at her, but she didn't notice, and eventually he just shrugged and forgot his question.

She obviously still wasn't happy with the Plasmid idea.

Once she had finished her prep bar, Fang pulled the bag back towards him and opened a side pocket, fishing out a clean syringe with a cap over the needle. As he pulled it out, Max physically shied away from the object until she was level with the Plasmid bottle, and he could see the obvious fear in her eyes.

When he held his hand out for the bottle, it took her a few minutes to realise what he wanted. She pulled the rag of a blanket off of the flask and a warm red light emanated from it, the contents still swirling as if someone were shaking the glass to mix the contents. Hesitantly, she picked up the warm bottle and handed it to Fang, who sat cross-legged and placed the bottle in his lap.

As hard as she tried Max couldn't bring herself to watch him draw the liquid from the flask. Instead, she stared up at the ocean, now illuminated with a slight orange hue, and studied the large fish that floated lazily past their hiding place.

If only they could breathe underwater. Then escaping would be easy.

"Alright," the even tone brought her attention back to her partner, and Max was mildly started to see all of the liquid in the flask had fit in the needle Fang was holding. The bottle retained a slight orange hue to it for five second after Fang removed it from his lap, and then the colour died, leaving all its luminosity in the syringe in his right hand.

He held out his left hand. "Give me your left wrist," he added gently, knowing this was going to be very unnerving for her. She held her wrist close to her chest protectively, her eyes never leaving the syringe, fear echoing in the wide stare she exhibited. "Max," he said a little louder, pulling her attention from the syringe to his eyes. His gaze was soft and gentle, his hand unwavering. "It'll be fast. I promise."

A few second's deliberation and Max hesitantly held out her left wrist. When Fang couldn't reach her properly she shuffled just a little closer, arching her back to keep the rest of the body as far away from the needle as physically possible. He took her wrist in his free hand with a softness she didn't expect from him, gently rubbing the area on her arm he planned to put the needle before pressing the tip of the instrument to her skin.

It was cold. Max shuddered in fear as it came into contact with her wrist, and sweat began to form on her skin. Her partner looked up from her skin to offer her a reassuring smile, his eyes still calm and patient when she looked up to meet them.

But even that couldn't distract her from the discomfort and pain as the needle pricked her skin.

Fang was true to his word. Once the needle was under her skin, the Plasmid was injected and the needle removed in seconds. Max actually blinked and missed it. But the pain that followed was unbearable as the foreign object began to infiltrate and reprogram the DNA in every cell of her body. Within a second her vision was going fuzzy and she could barely think. She began to flail about in fear as her world shrunk and shrivelled before her eyes.

Two heavy chains wrapped themselves around her arms, preventing her from thrashing out and pulling her to the floor. A rather soft floor wearing black pants. As her muscles spasmed and cells fought against the foreign material invading her genetics, Max was wrapped in Fang's warm embrace.

His concerned face was the last thing she saw before she blacked out.


	16. BBQ, Anyone?

**Chapter 16**

Though she could understand why staying in one place for too long would be dangerous, especially after the fridge incident, Max's muscles were still recovering from her injection the following day when Fang decided to uproot. Now they traipsed further into territory Fang seemed to be rather familiar with, but it was all new to her, and she was tired and grumpy.

With no concept of time and no landmarks, they could have been wandering for a day, for all she knew. Her muscles were so fatigued by the time he paused for breath she slumped against the nearest wall, ignoring the grime and dust on its surface as their particles grated on her skin. Ahead of her, Fang was rooting through an old desk, or what was left of it. It seemed someone had been thrown into the old thing, and pieces of shattered wood scattered the floor in a disorderly manner.

A quick scan of the remains found Fang nothing but a half-empty packet of bullets, which he tossed to Max over his shoulder. Since he didn't hear them scatter about the floor, he assumed she had caught them, and continued to kick about the wreckage.

Shame there was nothing else to find.

Soon he was finished, pulling out splinters he didn't even know he'd acquired as he head for the next room. He heard a grunt of disapproval behind him as Max levered herself from the grimy wall and staggered after him, pulling a sigh from his own lips as he pulled open the door, remembering his own discomfort as his body accommodated the ADAM now in his system. Her immune system was slowly being reprogrammed to accept the new material, and all that it would create, but it made their bearer irritable and achy, something Max wasn't shy about sharing.

He stepped through the doorframe ahead of him without too much thought, but paused quickly in the metal doorframe when he finally took in his surroundings. At the other end of the next room, only about twenty feet away from his position, was a splicer. It looked somewhere between Primitive and Spider, a hunched back toward him as it rifled through rubbish, not noticing its new guests.

Carefully, Fang stepped back out of the room. He would have bumped into Max if she hadn't been on her guard and already retreated a step. When he turned, he saw the annoyance in her face, but pressed a finger to his lips when she went to complain before motioning into the next room. She shifted onto her toes to glance into the room and saw the splicer, but missed the significance of his discovery, slipping back onto the soles of her feet with an eyebrow raised at her companion.

Silently, he motioned to the splicer again, before pointing at her hand. He then snapped his fingers and a tiny shot of electricity crackled between the two involved, and she finally got the idea, accompanied with a wide-eyed understanding he couldn't miss. She then took a step back and shook her head. He rolled his eyes in exacerbation.

Though she _knew_ there had to be a first time for the use of her plasmid, she was hoping it could be a desperate moment that forced her to unleash her new ability. Instead, Fang seemed to have decided that a little target practice would suffice, pointing again to the splicer in the next room. He wanted her to shoot it in the back, unprepared and unaware of her presence.

She wasn't sure she wanted to do that.

The look Fang gave her as he continued to motion to the creature reminded her what it was. If their backs were turned, the creature beyond that doorway would not hesitate to kill them and feast on their corpses, possibly while they were still alive, but maimed. She saw a flicker of pain cross his eyes, for just a nanosecond, and understood he's had similar qualms with the lifestyle on his first tour of Rapture. His morals had been beaten into dust through years of survival, and the thought that could happen to her sent a shiver down her spine.

Their silent exchange over, Max took a deep breath and swallowed hard, flexing the fingers of her left hand, letting her right rest on the gun at her belt in case of failure as she stepped into the doorway. The splicer still hadn't noticed their presence as it picked at something it hand found, seemingly an old food wrapper, obviously not used t hunting alone.

Max raised her hand to the creature, feeling her muscles tense slightly at the effort, their structure still not completely healed. Unsure where to go from her, she closed her eyes and willed a fire to shoot from her hand, concentrating on the idea of flames and burning. She felt Fang nudge her side and mumble something, becoming annoyed he was cajoling her while she was trying to concentrate.

Finally, a heat seemed to rise from within her skin, and her muscles warmed, their pain forgotten. A build-up of energy flooded all sense of pain in her body. Opening her eyes, Max could feel power welling behind her open palm, waiting to be released. She smiled slightly to herself as the splicer turned to face them, freezing when it noticed their presence, and she forgot all of the anger Fang had called on a few seconds ago.

It was at that moment the power began to drain from her blast, before she'd even willed the flame to fire, and by the time it had just a tiny spark of flame jumped from her open palm and landed squarely in the centre of right Max's foot. Despite this action, Max stayed in the same stance for a few seconds beyond the scalding of her bare foot, disbelief in what just happened rooting her to the spot.

"Smooth," Fang muttered, and she fought the urge to hit him. The pain in her foot was masked by another bout of energy as it built with her anger, and soon she could feel the fire collecting behind her open palm once more.

This time, she remained angry, and the confused splicer was hit with a full bout of fireball.

At first, the splicer seemed just as surprised as Max that a fireball had ignited his skin and rags, then the sudden realisation of his imminent death overrode his amazement and the splicer began screaming in a high pitched wail, running away from the fire-caster in panic. Max dropped her arm to her side and watched in bewilderment as the crazed creature ran straight into a wall, knocking itself out cold as the flames crept over its tattered clothes and fused the fabrics to its flesh.

Her anger drained by sudden intrigue, the pain in both Max's muscles and her foot began to throw, both more painfully then she remembered any of her aches being before now. She could feel her feet ready to give way beneath her when Fang clapped a hand on her shoulder, almost knocking her to the ground.

When she looked at him, she was offering her a smirk. She couldn't help but mirror it, despite the carnage she had just caused. The pair ignored the smell of charcoaled flesh as they made their way over to the next doorway, pausing briefly to check the rubbish pile for anything useful.

That plasmid, Max had to admit, was cool.


	17. AN

Yo.

So instead of working on the other long story I have going, I seem to have been drawn to at least getting this one a little further along. As such there will be a few edits and changes to he current story line, now I have drawn up a timeline and got a few more things straightened out in my head:

- the entirety of this document has been rewritten, so the original will be taken down and resubmitted weekly under a similar name.

- before re-uploading this story, I will be writing **Mutant Graveyard: A Prequel, **which is Fang's story and will provide more detail on new splicer types and some more back story. I'm also planning a story twist in later novellas, so make sure you keep an eye on these details.

- **Mutant Graveyard** will then be further split into short novellas, the first being Max's arrival. Keep an eye out for new ones once Max's story has been uploaded. =]

And that's everything. **Mutant Graveyard: A Prequel **will be uploaded once I have a few chapters as a buffer, so within the next week or so. Apologies to anyone who reads my other long fics, but I have decided to tackle one fic at a time to ensure that you get the best quality writing and well-thought out story lines. I will be continuing **Love, Loss and Loyalty **at a later date when I can focus on it, and write up a timeline, which the fic desperately needs.

Thanks for sticking with me guys!

~Millis


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